


Long Live the Reckless and the Brave

by ihappentobeonfire



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, I don't know anything about this stuff don't blame me, I was binging Breaking Bad while I was writing this so shut up, Jeonghan will not be deterred, M/M, Maybe other idols but they’re not important to the plot, Mentions of Astro in like 2 chapters maybe, Namjoon is a wingman, RIP My sanity, Violence, alcohol consumption, but they’re in a gang so, if you do the math underage drinking, monsta x are the villains (but not really), oh well, references and brief exo appearances, side bangtan, side exo, theyre supposed to be villains but they’re too fluffy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:40:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 57,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihappentobeonfire/pseuds/ihappentobeonfire
Summary: Choi Seungcheol is the leader of one of the most infamous gangs in the city of Seoul, and when problems that go by the name of Yoon Jeonghan arise, he needs to find a way to work around them. His ideal way would be to ignore his issues, but that doesn't work so well when his issues insist upon being there all the time. He's taken years to build his own walls, and he'll be damned if he's gonna let one person tear them all down.





	1. Reckless

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to whatever this is.

Jeonghan’s fingers traveled across the keys of the piano, playing on their own accord. The noises of each keystroke rung in the otherwise silent room, seeming to emphasize the dust that had settled on top of the wood. It was a miracle the instrument wasn’t out of tune, after god knows how long sitting in here.

“Jeonghan?” A quiet, soft voice asked from the direction of the doors, and the music immediately stopped. He exhaled before looking over his shoulder.

“Jisoo?” He responded, his tone neither cold nor welcoming.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go get some lunch with me, but if you’re busy that’s fine” The other smiled sheepishly, his doe-eyes twinkling at the proposition. Jeonghan barely had to think, his stomach thought for him, and soon enough they were walking down the sidewalk towards a small diner they both enjoyed. The atmosphere inside was very calming and almost cute, with pastel decorations and children’s coloring pages handing on a tack board in the entrance. Jeonghan slid into one side of the booth, and Jisoo the other.

“How’s work?” Jeonghan asked, brushing his hair behind his ear. He had recently gotten it cut, but it was long enough that it could be bothersome still.

“Good, nothing too out of the ordinary.” Jeonghan knew he was playing it off, something interesting always happened. He was a responding paramedic, for god’s sake. He didn’t say anything, though, instead just carried on with the conversation.

-=+=-

“You know, that guy over there is totally checking you out” Jeonghan snorted, pointing with the straw that had been in his drink. Jisoo looked over his shoulder at who Jeonghan was pointing to, and flushed, looking back down at his hands folded in his lap immediately.

“He’s pretty, you should talk to him” Jeonghan encouraged, but Jisoo just shook his head, instead picking at the fake flowers on the windowsill. 

Jeonghan looked back over at the mystery man and noticed him glance at the other person he was sitting with almost expectantly. The other person scowled at Jisoo, and Jeonghan smirked.

“Your mystery admirer is trying to make his friend there jealous” He mumbled, and Jisoo snorted, glancing over his shoulder again and waving at the less-bitter one. The man sheepishly waved back and then turned to face his friend completely, who threw one last seething glare over his shoulder. Jisoo looked back at Jeonghan and had a more genuine smile on his face now.

“I hope they get together, they look cute” He sighed, and the conversation halted as their food arrived. They ate without exchanging words, simply enjoying the company of one another. 

Jeonghan looked back over at the man out of curiosity some time later, and he shifted to lean on the table, his leg moving to the side of his chair.

“Oh my god, he has a gun strapped to his thigh” Jeonghan whispered, and Jisoo looked up, obviously not having heard him. He couldn’t take his gaze off of the holstered weapon, feeling slightly intimidated, yet intrigued.

“Jeonghan, you look spooked. What’s wrong?” Jisoo asked, his voice a normal volume. 

Jeonghan’s eyes flickered back up to the man’s face, who caught his gaze and threw one side of his jacket over the weapon.

“The guy over there.. He moved his leg and he had one of the thigh holsters” He mumbled, and Jisoo tilted his head like a puppy. “With a gun. He had a gun” Jeonghan added, and Jisoo’s eyes widened. 

“I kinda want to get out of here now, not gonna lie” Jisoo hissed, and waved the waiter over, asking for their check. When she brought it back, Jisoo tucked a few bills into it and stood up, dusting off his pants. Jeonghan stood as well, sparing one last glance over his shoulder. He noticed they were paying as well, and the one with the gun was still looking at him, although his expression was cold and threatening. He stood up and strided over to them, the one with the gun grabbing Jeonghan’s arm and pausing for a moment.

“Meet me outside. Don’t take your time” 

Jeonghan gulped, and the man narrowed his eyes before continuing on his way. Jisoo’s eyes darted nervously to his friend, and he reached over, grabbing his hand. The walk to the door was agonizingly long, and when Jeonghan finally pushed the front door open, still squeezing Jisoo’s hand, his stomach was in knots. What was the big deal? Was it because he knew the guy’s face now? The pair was leaning against the wall, the one who hadn’t spoken to him pushed himself off of the brick when the pair walked through the door, and his eyes flickered down to their interlaced hands, but he didn’t mention anything, instead, he flicked his coat to the side so the gun was in plain view.

“Let’s get something straight. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. Got it? You don’t gotta get tangled up in this shit, ‘kay?” His voice was low and silky, like he did this often. Jeonghan nodded quickly, and the man’s hand moved from where it had been near the handle of the gun.

“Whatever you saw, or heard, god forbid, won’t be shared. If we find out it was, it will not be a good day for you. If you keep our identities secret, if you don’t go to the cops and report we were there, we might lend you a hand if you’ve got trouble in the streets. As of now, whether you like it or not, now you know who we are, so now you’re associated with us. That could be used against you. I suggest you don’t let anyone know.” He spat, and then started walking away. The second one then approached them, his eyes looking a bit kinder. He had been the one that had initially said something, but he didn’t seem as bitter, which was peculiar. 

“He had something similar happen to his sister, which... didn’t end well. Sorry about him. What he said was true though, you can’t make a name for yourself if you don’t want to be associated with someone anymore. Sorry about that. If you ever run into someone that asks you how the bird flies, though, say west. They’re a friend.” He added a smile at the end of his statement, and Jeonghan nodded again. “Good. Can I ask your name?” He finished, and Jeonghan hesitated.

“Not before I know yours.” He spoke after a moment, and the man cocked an eyebrow.

“Sure thing, pretty boy. I’m Vernon.”

“...Jeonghan.”

The man nodded and turned, following his partner in whatever he did without another word.

“Did you just join a gang?” Jisoo asked, finally releasing his hand. His palms were sweaty. 

“I don’t know, Jisoo, hopefully not.”

-=+=-

Boo Seungkwan was sick of Hansol’s ridiculous infatuation with making him as jealous as humanly possible. Sure, he probably didn’t notice, but Seungkwan absolutely hated it when he was plainly staring at someone. He heard quick footsteps behind him, and Hansol was at his side, looking over at him.

“I hope they don’t get into too much trouble” He sighed, and Seungkwan scoffed.

“You’re too soft, Sol.”

He distractedly played with a button on his black jacket, his feet taking him where he knew he had to go. Back to home base, tell the boss about this encounter. 

“Stop being so harsh, I can’t have emotions now?” Hansol joked, and Seungkwan sighed, slowing his steps. Hansol immediately matched his pace. Even though he didn’t respond, Hansol could tell what his response was. ‘You could get hurt.’. Hansol threw his arm across Seungkwan’s shoulder and made sure to briefly brush his finger along his friend’s jaw. Seungkwan looked over at him, an almost inconceivable blush decorating his cheeks. Of course, Hansol knew that Seungkwan liked him, and he reciprocated the feeling. He didn’t know how to act on it though, so he stuck to making him jealous and little touches here and there. It had been going on for nearly a year, with no perceivable end. Seungkwan hesitantly reached up and grabbed Hansol’s hand, to which Hansol laced their fingers together and squeezed. 

The familiar ‘old warehouse’ building appeared as they turned a corner, and a bit of relief spread across Hansol’s mind. They were in their own territory now, somewhere that was safe. Seungkwan detached himself unwillingly and unlocked the side door to the warehouse, stepping inside and holding it open for Hansol. When they were both inside, he let it close, stirring the dust and dirt on the floor. 

Hansol walked over to where they kept everything, and leaned against a table, pulling his phone out of his pocket. The lights weren’t useful unless it was darker, but it was dim enough that it set a bit more of a mood than intended. 

Seungkwan grabbed a few tools and figured he’d fix up the wheels of his motorcycle while they were down here, and quickly sank down onto his knees, pushing his sleeves up.

“You look prettier like that” Hansol joked, and Seungkwan let out a small laugh. Typically, he would have retorted with an equally as dirty joke, but tonight was different. Tension slowly built in the air, and neither could tell if it was inherently sexual tension. Quickly, Seungkwan finished up what he was doing, and stood, letting his jacket slide off of his shoulders. He draped it across his the seat of his bike and let his arms breathe for once, returning to the tool rack to put them back. When he turned back around, he noticed Hansol was looking at him through partially hooded eyes. 

Apparently, he had been engulfed by the atmosphere as well. He pushed himself off of the table and took a step towards Seungkwan, who stepped back a bit.

“Is there a problem, Seungkwan?” He asked, and the older of the two narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t you think you’re taking it a bit quickly? You were just checking out that kid’s ass, and suddenly you want me to pretend it’s fine?”

“Boo Seungkwan, I was not checking out the innocent little boy’s ass, I was trying to make you jealous. I was trying to make you want me. Do you not understand that?” He tilted his head, and Seungkwan didn’t change his expression. Of course, he had hoped that was true, but never expected Hansol, after all this time, to be so forward about it. Hansol took another step forward, and this time, he didn’t step back. Hansol was now an arm’s length away, completely within Seungkwan’s reach. He wanted so badly to reach out and pull him closer, but for some reason he didn’t. He wanted to see where Hansol was taking this. Hansol, apparently, had some sort of plan. 

First, he reached out and pulled Seungkwan forward by the belt loops. Then, he secured one arm around the older, and then other hand worked itself into Seungkwan’s hair. A few blissful moments passed until Hansol barely feathered his lips over Seungkwan’s, then firmly pressing them together. Seungkwan pulled Hansol closer and slid his hand down the outside of Hansol’s thigh, pulling the gun out of the holster and setting it on the counter behind them. Hansol pulled back for a breath, and opened his eyes slowly, shifting his hand so he could trace Seungkwan’s jaw.

“Sorry to break it up, lovebirds” 

Hansol jumped but kept his arms around Seungkwan, almost like he was afraid it was a dream. Mingyu was standing in the doorway, a telltale black duffel bag hanging of of his shoulder.

“We got trouble”

-=+=-

Jisoo sat on the edge of the bed in the back of the ambulance, his hand gripping the bar near the wall so he didn’t fly all over. They’d gotten a call, but had no clue how bad it was. An old lady had reported a gun fight, so it could be anything, really, but the possibility of gang activity skyrocketed. 

“Remember we’re here to do our job and get out. No hospital” he reminded Kihyun, who was sitting further back in the vehicle.

“I know, hopefully the police car behind us knows that too” he sighed as the ambulance came to a screeching stop, and Jisoo grabbed his bag, pushing open the doors. Almost immediately, he noticed a bit of an issue. There was blood all over the pavement. He hopped down and cringed. He was no stranger to blood, but walking through puddles of it was still unnerving. 

“Over here!” He heard, and his head whipped in that direction. A man with a large rip in his jacket and blood running down the side of his face was fervently gesturing at him, pointing to someone else. The someone he was pointing to was on the ground, so he assumed he was being summoned to take care of him. He jogged over and moved so he could see the injured man’s front, and knew that something was very wrong. His previously grey shirt was a more crimson color, and his eyes were open. Jisoo pushed him into his back and cut open his shirt, identifying the two gunshot wounds. One low on his abdomen, the other up towards his shoulder. Jisoo pulled out two cloths and pressed them over the wounds, putting on pressure to hopefully lessen the bleeding. He knew he had to make sure there were exit wounds, and then clean and suture them, but for now he just has to keep this man alive. The guy from earlier was sitting on the ground near his head, staring worriedly at his blank expression.

“What’s his name?” Jisoo asked, not looking away from his patient.

“Mingyu”

“How old is he?”

“23” 

Jisoo almost hesitated. This kid was younger than he was, out on the streets getting shot at. 

“Any pre-existing medical conditions?” Jisoo asked, starting to pull Mingyu into a sitting position to check for exit wounds. 

“Not that I know of” the guy mumbled, and reached out, pressing his hand against Mingyu’s back to support him. Jisoo didn’t mind, it was helpful, in fact. He pressed his fingers against one of the wounds, attempting to startle Mingyu into responsiveness. Luckily, it worked, and he gasped and started shivering. Jisoo gently pushed him back down and cleaned off the wound, the bleeding having slowed down enough. Mingyu hissed when he touched the wound on his abdomen, and the guy who had been quietly sitting there leaned forward and raked his hands through Mingyu’s hair, mumbling words of comfort Jisoo couldn’t hear. He finished up cleaning and grabbed a suture kit, hurrying to finish up.

“I-I don’t have anything to numb it-“

“It’s fine, I just got shot, what’s a needle?” Mingyu growled, and then coughed.

Jisoo sighed and concentrated, quickly and efficiently closing up both of the entrance wounds.

“Roll over” He commanded, not directing the phrase at Mingyu, but instead at the other man, who gently flipped him onto his back. The exit wounds were a bit harder to fix, but he managed it, then gently forcing Mingyu into an upright position and noticing the split lip, consequentially then noticing that he had probably gotten punched in the face. He pulled his light pen out of his pocket and shined it in Mingyu’s eyes, making sure all was well in his brain. 

“Jisoo! A little help?!” Kihyun shouted, and Jisoo narrowed his eyes, pushing Mingyu back against the other man’s chest.

“Take care of him, bed rest for 5 days, no bright lights or screens. Lots of water.” He rattled off, looking the man in the eyes. He nodded, and Jisoo jumped up, grabbing his bag and turning on his heel, identifying Kihyun and starting towards him. 

“Shallow breathing, slow pulse, broken wrist, I need you to talk him through” he mumbled, and Jisoo sat down by the guy’s head, pulling it into his lap. Broken Wrist wasn’t true, it was the pair’s code name for might not make it.

“Hey Vernon” he smiled sheepishly, and the kid looked over at him. 

“You remember me?” He croaked, and Jisoo nodded his head.

“How could I forget the man with a thigh holster that checked me out in a restaurant” he laughed quietly, and Vernon managed to smile, a little bit of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth as he did so. Jisoo wiped it away with his thumb.

“I need you to stay with me, Alright? Focus on my voice, keep talking if you can. I just need you to stay conscious” Jisoo mumbled, and Vernon hummed in approval, his eyes flickering closed. Jisoo pushed Vernon’s wavy sun-bleached hair out of his face, one hand cradling the back of his head and the other shifting to check his pulse, eventually resting there. 

“Do you have any pets?” Jisoo asked, trying to distract him.

“No, but’ve got Chan, he’s a puppy on feet” he mumbled, a few of the words slurring. Jisoo brushed a finger beside Vernon’s eye, wiping away a fleck of blood.

“How about your home?”

“Is nice, boss takes care’f us real good, I got my own bed’n everythin’, is a big house” his eyes started to close a bit, so Jisoo quickly picked up the conversation, glancing down at Kihyun, who was quickly trying to patch up whatever he was working with.

“It a big house, huh? For a lot of people?” He raised his eyebrows, and Vernon’s eyes opened a bit more.

“Mmhm, there’s 11 of us, an a garage in the bottom for the bikes n’ cars” 

“Wow, 11 people in one house?” Jisoo was honestly impressed.

“Yep, Cheollie’s got it covered” his head dropped a bit and he reached up, tugging on Jisoo’s uniform shirt. “Fancy shirt” he mumbled, and Jisoo could barely understand him. 

“Yeah, it’s my uniform”

“Uniform? You’re in’th army?”

“No, Vernon, I’m an emergency responder, I work in the ambulance.” Jisoo corrected, trying to soften his tone as much as possible.

“Oh- so m’ hurt?”

“Yeah, you’re hurt”

Vernon fell silent for a few seconds, his breathing becoming a bit steadier and his pulse strengthening against Jisoo’s gentle fingertips.

“My name isn’t Vernon” he said after a while, the slur leaving for a moment.

“I figured.”

“It’s Hansol” he sighed, and Jisoo felt him relax completely. A good sign, he had control over his body.

“And I’m Jisoo.” Jisoo added, and Hansol turned his head to look up at him.

“You can’t go ‘round givin’ your real name willy-nilly” Hansol scowled, and Jisoo noticed the slur was back. “How bout… Joshua?”

Jisoo didn’t have the heart to tell him that normal people didn’t need fake names, so he just nodded along. Hansol seemed satisfied.

“Alright, that’s as good as it’s gonna get” Kihyun sighed, and stood up, flicking a shard of glass out of his hand. He moved to help Jisoo, who just waved him away.

“Go fix up your hands, I got it”

Kihyun reluctantly headed back to the ambulance, and Jisoo hooked an arm under Hansol‘s side, dragging him to his feet and pulling his arm over Jisoo’s shoulders. As soon as he was vertical, all of Hansol’s weight pressed against Jisoo as he lost consciousness, and Jisoo inhaled, starting to move towards the small group of people lingering off to the side. One of them looked up and smacked another guy’s shoulder, the other guy also looking up and immediately rushing to help. The new guy supported Hansol’s other side, helping Jisoo carefully move him over towards his group. He had to admit, he stepped over at least 3 bodies. As soon as he was close enough to the grass, he gently slid Hansol’s arm off of his shoulders and set him down, checking his pulse again, when he felt a hand on his shoulder, dragging him to his feet.

“Hey, thanks” 

Jisoo turned to face the man, and was immediately surprised by his unique, yet fitting facial structure.

“It’s my job, sir” Jisoo stumbled a bit over his words, and the man smiled.

“Please. Seungcheol. We owe you one” his smile faded a bit. “Don’t take it lightly.”

He turned away from Jisoo and faced the rest of his group. No, the rest of his gang, and spoke. Jisoo, not interesting in meddling anymore, quickly walked back to the ambulance and pulled himself up into the back, closing the doors behind him.

-=+=-

“I ran into that kid again last week” Jisoo spoke into the phone, which was tucked between his shoulder and his ear.

“Bitchy or Vernon?” Jeonghan asked, and Jisoo snorted.

“Vernon. His real name is Hansol.”

“Oooh, is someone going on a date?” 

Jeonghan sounded mischievous, even through the phone.

“No, he was actually bleeding all over the ground”

“Oh.”

“Yeah” Jisoo attempted a nervous laugh, but sounded way too nervous to pull It off. “He’s fine now though.”

“We still on for that drink?” Jeonghan interrupted after a moment of silence, and Jisoo made an approving noise.

“I’m on my way to the bar right now, you’re finishing up work, right?”

“Yeah, see you soon” Jeonghan ended the call without another word, and Jisoo tucked his phone into his pocket, turning down a familiar road. 

-=+=-

Jeonghan said his goodbyes, and Jisoo waved, turning the opposite direction, a pleasant buzz still dwelling in his mind. He wasn’t drunk, by any means, but he was significantly less sober than when the night began. He checked his phone and winced, turning his brightness from ‘the messiah is here’ to ‘dim’, and checked the time. It was close to 2am, but he didn’t have work the next day, so he didn’t really mind. The sky was dark, the stars weren’t visible through the light pollution. Jisoo picked up his pace, eager to get back home and collapse onto his own bed. Not 3 minutes later he heard footsteps behind him, and purposefully turned down a less noticeable road to make sure he wasn’t being followed. The footsteps continued in his direction, and he ducked his head down, walking even faster. He passed by an alley, and a rough hand closed around his wrist, jerking him into that same alley as a cloth was pressed over his mouth to prevent him from making noise. He squeezed his eyes closed, and felt himself being led further down the alley, finally being forced against a wall. His back dug into the brick, and the force of the impact knocked the breath out of him. His eyes snapped open, and a man leaned down in front of him.

“Hey, pretty boy”

Jisoo cringed and turned his head way, looking down towards the opening to the alley. His chin was forced back to the center, not allowing him to look anywhere else than the man invading all of his boundaries.

“Such pretty, pretty eyes” He cooed, and his hand shifted to the side of Jisoo’s neck. That’s when Jisoo noticed the knife in his hand. A shiver ran up his spine, and he squeezed his eyes closed again. He felt the rough pad of the man’s thumb trace his lips, the rest of his hand holding Jisoo’s head in place.

“Pretty lips”

Jisoo squirmed and tried to push the man away, but he snapped out the knife and drove the tip into Jisoo’s forearm, deep enough to be more of a stab wound than a scratch. Jisoo whimpered pathetically, not wanting to make much noise.

“What’s your name, pretty boy?” His voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down Jisoo’s spine. Jisoo didn’t respond, so he grazed the side of his neck with the sharp blade. He felt a warm trail of blood trickle down the side of his neck.

“J-Joshua” he stuttered, the fake name feeling right in his mouth. The man pressed his body against Jisoo’s, specifically his hips. Jisoo cringed again and bit his lip to keep from making any sort of noise. He felt like he was gonna start crying, in fact tears were pricking the corners of his eyes. The man reached up and was about to brush the corner of his eyes when Jisoo shoved his arms backwards, kicking his kneecap and making an attempt to run. No such luck. The man dragged him back up against the wall and pinned his arms above him with one hand, sliding the other up Jisoo’s shirt. Then, he ripped open the front of his button-up altogether. The contact made Jisoo feel nauseous, made his stomach knot. The man’s hand slid further down, and then suddenly stopped. He pulled a bandana out of god knows where and ripped it in half, tying Jisoo’s hands together with one half, and then blindfolding him.

“No need to tarnish your pretty eyes” he growled, and Jisoo tipped his head forward, hoping to possibly headbutt him, but instead a fist worked into his hair and slammed his head back against the brick. His lips parted from the sudden bash, and he could tell he was going to have a massive concussion without having to think too hard. If he even survived, that was. The sudden realization that he might die in this back alley hit him like a tidal wave, and he let himself go limp, closing his eyes to hopefully feign being unconscious. The man shook him until he complied, and then forced him even closer against the wall, the knife prodding between his ribs. One of the man’s hands slid back to squeeze his ass, and he hissed between clenched teeth, forced to just stand there and take it. A thigh slid between his legs, and he was now hyper-aware of everything that was going on. Every ragged breath the man released, his heartbeat pounding in his chest, the flimsy bandana material securing his hands behind his back, the sharp stench of sweat and arousal radiating off of the form in front of him. He squeezed his legs together and the man pulled his thigh away, slicing the knife across his stomach and moving his hand to grope Jisoo’s thigh. He attempted to kick him again, but was met with, yet again, the knife, but this time it drug across his cheek. Jisoo let his head fall back against the brick, just waiting for it to be over, and noticed his breathing was picking up. He was slipping into full-on panic mode. He could start screaming, but that would get him stabbed. Instead, he just mumbled “stop” almost against his will. 

“What was that, angel?”

“Stop!” He spoke louder, and a force connected with his jaw, slamming his head back against the wall again. He spit blood in the direction he hoped the pervert was. Judging by the fact that he was jerked off the wall and what felt suspiciously like a knee made violently contact with his gut, and he doubled over, being forced to the ground by a boot. The blindfold was ripped off of his face, and the man drug him up by his collar.

“Now you listen to me. You’re gonna cooperate, and you’re gonna like it, or I’ll string you up by your guts”

“I’d prefer the second option” Jisoo choked out, and the man slammed his foot down on Jisoo’s shoulder, likely dislocating it. Jisoo made a pained noise and spat another mouthful of blood onto the ground, which was leaking out of his tongue where he had bitten it, hard, a few minutes ago.  
He was pinned back against the wall again, and as he felt the man start to play with the button on his pants, he squeezed his eyes closed.

-=+=-

Seungkwan walked quickly down the street, his head down and his jacket drawn close around his shoulders. His late night grocery store run had proved useless, the gummy bears had completely run out. He paused as he stepped on a wallet, and picked it up, opening it and looking at the ID. Hong Jisoo. He glanced at the picture and almost dropped it, squinting to get a better look. It was most certainly who he thought it was. Did he just drop his wallet? It seemed kind of odd. 

Seungkwan tipped his head up and looked around, glancing down an alley to his right and actually dropping the ID. Quickly, he picked it up and shoved it back into the wallet, putting the wallet in his pocket and pulling his pistol out of his belt. He cautiously stepped into the alley, his eyes trailed on the half-naked, trembling boy sitting up against the far wall of the alley. He kicked a can and the boy’s eyes snapped open. He drew the ripped sides of his button-up around himself, pulling his knees into his chest. Seungkwan put the gun away and slid his jacket off of his shoulders, cautiously approaching who he believed was Jisoo. 

The boy started crying, and got as far away from Seungkwan as possible, backing into a corner.

“Hey, Hey, shh. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He whispered, sitting down a few feet away from him and holding the jacket out. With shaky, blood-stained fingers, Jisoo closed his hand around the fabric and covered himself, relaxing a little bit. His wary eyes were still trained on Seungkwan, however. Seungkwan pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Wonwoo.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need the car, and a change of clothes”

-=+=-

Jisoo groaned and opened his eyes, staring up at a white ceiling, surrounded by comfort. 

“Hey, welcome back” the voice was strangely familiar, and he turned his head with much effort to look. The man that had saved him- Bitchy, was sitting on the edge of the bed with a disassembled gun in his lap. Jisoo looked back at the ceiling and laughed, a sharp, quick sound. 

“I’m dreaming.” He droned, and Bitchy flicked the rail back on.

“This is as real as it gets, jellybean” his tone was teasing, yet comforting. He cocked the hammer and pulled the trigger, a small “pop” confirming he had done it correctly. He set the gun down and stood up, turning around so he could lean over Jisoo. He pressed the back of his hand to the paramedic’s forehead and lightly touched one of the yellowing bruises on his jaw.

“Do you need some painkillers? Water? Whiskey? We’ve got it all” he mumbled, and Jisoo closed his eyes.

“Where am I? What happened?” He asked, and he felt Bitchy take a step back.

“You’re at our headquarters. I found you in that alley and brought you back here”

Jisoo noticed he was wearing silky pyjamas, and immediately remembered that his shirt had been ruined. Damn, that had been a nice shirt too.

“Where’s my phone?” He asked groggily, and Bitchy reached over to the side table.

“Do you want me to call somebody? They can come here if you want”

“Aren’t you supposed to be some dark gangster that’s all secretive and shit?”

“Sometimes I try to be, usually don't succeed. Do you want me to call someone or not?” Bitchy asked, clearly impatient.

“Jeonghan. 5417.” He sighed, and a few moment later he heard Bitchy on the phone as he walked out of the room quietly. Jisoo gently pushed himself up so he was sitting against the headboard and took in the room. It was large, and looked like one of those fancy hotel rooms you paid a fortune to sleep in for one night. He realized there was another queen sized bed next to his, a relatively human-shaped lump covered up by sheets. The door opened again, and Bitchy walked in, handing Jisoo his phone. Jisoo, knowing about concussions, wisely put it down. 

“He sounded relieved, I sent Wonwoo to pick him up. He’ll be here in 20” he informed, and then crossed to the other bed. Jisoo watched carefully as he peeled the covers back and leaned down, whispering something into the person’s ear and stroking their hair.

“Seungkwan~” the other person whined, and reached up, moving in such a way that Jisoo could identify him as Hansol. Bitchy (no, Seungkwan), smiled and leaned down again, catching Hansol’s lips in a chaste kiss. Hansol grabbed Seungkwan’s shirt and pulled him down into the bed, lying partially on top of his chest. Jisoo smiled, watching the interaction still, only looking away when the door opened.

“You’ve has quite the week, haven't you?” The newcomer asked, sitting down on the edge of Jisoo’s bed. 

“Seungcheol, right?” Jisoo responded politely, not wanting to get his name wrong. 

Seungcheol nodded and ran a hand through his slicked back black hair. 

“You’re the first non-gang member that isn’t a one nighter to make it in here” He laughed, and Jisoo subconsciously touched the bandage on his arm. “I take it we’re not in your debt anymore? Of course, you can stay here until you recover, if you’d like, or Wonwoo can take you home. With your friend, who should be here any minute if Wonwoo isn’t tired or drunk, maybe both.”

Jisoo though for a moment.

“I suppose I’m kind of tangled up in this now..”

“Not if nobody saw you coming in or out that had a significant name in the community.” Seungcheol added almost immediately, and Jisoo breathed a sigh of relief.

“Not the life for you, huh?” Seungcheol’s smile seemed a bit pained as if he had to use that line before in a less desirable circumstance.

“Nuh-uh. I still go to church every Sunday and pray for forgiveness when I accidentally step on a ladybug.” He snorted, and Seungcheol’s mouth drew up into a lazy smirk. Light chatter and a door opening drew his attention to the bedroom door, which was thrown open rather violently as a partially-hysterical Jeonghan entered the room, immediately throwing his arms around Jisoo and holding him close. He still gripped Jisoo’s shoulders when he leaned back and surveyed his injuries.

“My god. Soo, what happened to you?” He asked quietly, and Seungcheol cleared his throat from across the room. Jeonghan’s gaze snapped back, and Seungcheol cocked an eyebrow.

“Pervert on the street. Seungkwan found him, and Soonyoung went back earlier to… finish the job. We’re still waiting for word back.”

Jeonghan immediately looked back at Jisoo, a newfound alarm spread across his features.

“What did he do to you? Why are you all bruised up? Don’t tell me he raped you I will personally rip his head off of his shoulders-“

“Jeonghan..” He whispered, and his friend’s face told him he knew.

“Oh my god, Jisoo” he gasped, tears wetting his cheeks, and he pulled the smaller into a hug. Jisoo reached out and clung to Jeonghan, afraid he might be disgusted by him now.

“Calm down, Soo. It’s fine, You’re fine.” He mumbled, although his voice was a bit shaky. 

Jeonghan continued to fret endlessly, and Jisoo listened, grateful that Jeonghan was willing to sit with him.

“Do you think I should talk to father about this?” The ‘Soojin’ that was supposed to go after the title was left unspoken. “He’ll probably call the police… send me to the hospital at the very least. He’ll have the whole church involved” Jisoo laughed a little at the last sentence.

Across the room, Seungkwan mouthed the words “he goes to church?” At Seungcheol, who just shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips. 

“Speaking of which, it’s Monday, Jisoo. You’ve been missing since Saturday night. You missed your weekly, and I’m pretty sure he called my phone, your phone, probably your parents, maybe my parents-“

“I get the picture” Jisoo sighed, and let his head fall back against the headboard, wincing when it made contact. 

“Do you want me to drive over and talk to him?” Jeonghan asked, picking Jisoo’s hand up and holding it between his own out of habit. Jisoo barely nodded, and Jeonghan stood up.

“Do you want to stay here or have Wonwoo take you somewhere?” Seungcheol asked after Jeonghan finished mumbling to himself about something, and Jisoo sighed.

“Stay here, Soo. Don’t need you on your own just yet.” Jeonghan smiles reassuringly, and started out the door, pulling Seungcheol to his face by the front of his collar to growl “don’t hurt him” before stalking out, his hair bouncing gloriously like one of the mean girls in high school. 

Seungcheol watched his retreating form before turning back to Jisoo, his eyebrows slightly creased.

“He seems a little… uptight” he mumbled, and Jisoo smiled.

“He’s like that.” He paused for a moment. 

“Why’d you help me?” He then asked, his voice getting a bit quieter. Seungcheol still heard him, to his relief. 

“Jihoon. He was in the same… situation a few years back. Never caught the guy, his name was ‘Python’. He ran with the Roses. I guess Seungkwan couldn’t deal with that, and you saved both Hansol and Mingyu. We kind of owed it to you.” He explained, his face displaying no emotion.

“Oh..” Jisoo fell quiet, feeling a bit out of place. 

“Boss?! Bit of an issue!” Someone yelled from the other room, and Seungcheol quickly left the room, the door still ajar. Jisoo shifted so he could look out the door, but he could hear the voices loud and clear. 

“I went to check on Soonyoung, he was just..” the man speaking visibly cringed. “He has the calling card tucked in his pocket. Apparently our mystery man was one of the Rose head guys. You know how he gets with all this shit- he’ll be up at our gate before long, just give the guy up and save the rest of us.” The guy speaking snapped, and Jisoo shrank back a little bit. Seungcheol reached to his right, out of Jisoo’s line of sight, and suddenly there was a gun in his hand.

“Say that one more fucking time, Seokmin, I dare you. You want me to take you back home? Hm?” He retorted, and Jisoo looked down at his hands. He didn’t want to cause this much trouble.

“Where’s Soonyoung?” Seungcheol asked, and Seokmin informed him that he was back in his room, and had only been knocked out instead of killed.

“We’re lucky this time. I’m putting a bullet in this guy’s skull if he is who I think he is” 

Jisoo carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed away from the door, and stood up. His vision swam, and he braced himself on the wall so he wouldn’t fall.

“Jisoo! Sit down!” Seungkwan scolded, gently trying to push Hansol off of his chest without waking him up.

“How do you know my name?” He breathed, and Seungkwan was finally able to stand up, quickly crossing the room and holding Jisoo up.

“Hansol told me. You need to lay back down, you’re not strong enough yet” Seungkwan instructed, but Jisoo pushed him away with one arm.

“I want to go home” his voice came out a little weaker and closer to tears than he had imagined, and Seungkwan forced him to sit down on the bed.

“You can’t, sorry, jellybean. It’s too dangerous right now, now that we know who it was. He doesn’t just walk away from situations like that. He’ll come looking for you, make sure you don’t tell anyone who he was.” Seungkwan explained slowly, and Jisoo’s breath hitched in his throat, a quiet, frail cry escaping his lips. He rubbed his eyes and pushed Seungkwan away again.

-=+=-

Choi Seungcheol was getting real tired of everyone’s bullshit. Specifically the Roses. That Python dude was starting to get on his nerves way too often, so he decided to put a stop to it. He’d taken Jihoon hostage and raped him, then told him to remember his name, and now he plucked some random kid off of the street to do it again, at knifepoint. Seungcheol worked his hand in and out of a fist, staring at the snake on the calling card. No way was he gonna let this son of a bitch get away this time. He walked into his room, the one he shared with Chan, and grabbed his beloved rifle off of the side table along with an extra magazine. When he entered the living room, everyone was staring at him.

“Well, are you gonna help me or not?” He asked, and they all immediately scrambled to grab their weapons. Seungkwan even walked out of his and Hansol’s room, but Seungcheol waved him away.

“Take care of everyone for me, will you?” He asked, and Seungkwan nodded, retreating back into the room and quietly closing the door. He turned his gaze on Jihoon, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat and look down at the Taurus PT-92 Semi-Automatic clutched in his hands.

“You can stay back if you want. Or you can be the one to put a bullet in his brain. It’s up to you” Seungcheol whispered, coming up behind him and rubbing Jihoon’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna kill him” his voice was more angry than anything.

“That’s the spirit”

The shorter looked up at him, his gaze wavering. 

“I’m a little scared though” 

Seungcheol reached forward and pulled him into his a hug, petting his hair. Jihoon, who was usually so strong and determined, trembling in his arms.

-=+=-

Wonwoo parked the car in a department store parking lot a bit away from the target building; a club that Python was known to hole himself up in. Jihoon, Seokmin, and Minghao climbed out, each of them concealing various weapons all over their bodies. The rumble of motorcycles soon followed, and Wonwoo identified the bikes flying past, going to a lot further away on the other side of the club. First was the black and yellow YZF-R1S, Junhui’s similarly colored gloves clutching the handlebars. Behind him was a blue Kawasaki Ninja ZX-10RR, Chan managing to balance it while fiddling with something on the dash. Finally, pulling off onto a different street, was Seungcheol. The motor made barely any noise for bike standards. It was fast, sleek, definitely fit him. A Yamaha R6, black with blue accents. His helmet was probably back at the warehouse to show off his hair, which he had expertly gelled back in the 30 seconds before they left. He was playing decoy. A lot of people might know his name, but not his face, and he knew what Python looked like. He’d draw him out onto the deck where Jihoon would have a clear shot- and if he couldn’t do it Junhui would be backing him up. The rest of them were patrolling in case things got dirty. Wonwoo learned against the hood of the car and made eye contact with Seungcheol, nodding as the leader approached the doors. It was late, they had waited until it got dark. Seungcheol looked over his shoulder before walking into the club.

-=+=-

Seungcheol hated clubs. It was crowded, sweaty, and smelled like alcohol. He wet his lips with his tongue quickly, and made his way across the bar area, his eyes traveling around for any signs of Roses. The leather pants he had to rip apart his closet to find fit right against the muscles in his leg, and the shimmery black shirt (which was Mingyu’s, not his) was tucked in partially in the front. He didn’t usually pay attention to his outfit, but Junhui had sat him down and forced him to look nice, which included eye makeup. He was so, so tempted to rub it off. He pulled at his shirt, the V-neck sliding down to expose his collarbones like it was supposed to. It had probably been blown back during the ride over. He was about to pull out his phone and text Jihoon when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“Sir, would you like access to the VIP section?” One of the employee’s asked, seeming a bit too polite. He nodded and followed her up the stairs after passing through another set of guards, and emerged in a much more sophisticated version of the chaos downstairs. He found himself standing alone near the wall, and gladly ordered a glass of whiskey from the bartender, returning after paying to his designated spot again. He locked eyes with someone from across the room, and then his eyes shifted to the snake tattoo curling around his forearm. Python. He quickly smirked over his glass and locked eyes with him again, running his tongue over his bottom lip and taking another sip of his drink. He felt like he needed to be much more drunk. Python started across the room, and Seungcheol pushed himself off the wall, weaving through the crowd with his smaller frame to the balcony, turning and leaning against the bar rail, watching Python struggle to get through a crowd of people. There were benefits to not being overly muscular. After a few minutes of rather humorous struggling, he finally walked out onto the balcony, trying to play it off cool.

“You know, you’re gorgeous” Python practically purred, and Seungcheol’s grip on his glass tightened. 

“Hm?” Seungcheol quirked an eyebrow and fixed his eyes on Python’s. Even if he hated to admit it, Python was a handsome man.

“I said.” He reached out and brushed a finger under Seungcheol’s chin. “You’re gorgeous”

Seungcheol wanted to jerk back, but sadly he was used to fake flirting, and let the corner of his mouth draw up into a lazy smirk. 

“I hadn’t noticed” he drawled, raising his glass to his lips. God, if this was a success he was getting as drunk as possible to cleanse his mind from this experience later. He tapped his finger on the side of his thigh, waiting eagerly for the sound of a gunshot. Did he not have a clear view? Seungcheol shifted and walked farther down the balcony to the front of the building, sliding one hand down the metal rail as he walked, the cold iron dragging under his fingertips. As he neared the ledge, he felt a hand settle on the side of his waist. He snorted and reached across his body, brushing the hand off.

“Playing hard to get, huh?” Python hissed, and Seungcheol turned around, walking backwards the rest of the way until he was nestled comfortably in the corner of the two rails. Seungcheol looked over the side at his bike, which was parked on the street below, and gauged how much it would hurt to jump down when it was all said and done. If he flipped over the rail and hung, then dropped, it was barely two feet. Good, now there was an escape plan.

“Is there something interesting going on?” Python asked, moving to stand next to him and gaze out over the edge as well, ‘accidentally’ touching Seungcheol’s side. 

“No. Just admiring the shabby cars” he sighed, and that wasn’t a lie. The fanciest thing he saw was a mockery of a Honda Pilot, not even the newest model. His bike stuck out like a sore thumb on that side of the street. On the other side, however, there was anything from G-Wagons to Maseratis and they all probably cost more than Seungcheol’s life was worth (in hindsight, the Honda Pilot was worth more than his life, so it wasn’t necessarily a valid comparison). 

“Which one’s yours?” He asked, and Seungcheol pointed to his bike.

“The Ford 4x4 that shouldn’t be parked in a city?”

“No, the motorcycle. The Yamaha.”

Python hummed contentedly, and Seungcheol found himself pressed against the bars to make as much room between them as possible. 

“So, what’s your name?” Python asked, and Seungcheol hesitated, his gaze shifting to where he knew Jihoon would be. He then looked back at Python after he caught the muzzle of the barely poking off of the top of the building, he gave him lazy finger guns with one hand (guns?? Cause Jihoon was supposed to shoot him by now? God damn it, Jihoon!)

He leaned back a bit further and felt a buzz in his pocket. It was Jihoon, with the firing signal.

“Choi Seungcheol.” He grinned, and Python’s hand went to his waist to draw his gun, but never made it there. He threw back the rest of his drink, the whiskey burning his throat, dropped the glass on Python’s head, and swung himself over the railing. There was an immediate reaction from inside the club, but he was already crossing the street to his bike, kicking a leg over to straddle the seat. The engine roared to life with the turn of the ignition key, and he pulled out into the street, weaving around the traffic. He turned back through the block to double and check on the rest of them, the gun in his seat storage reassuring him. When he pulled up to the parking lot, he saw that Wonwoo’s car was gone, and there were no signs of Junhui or Chan anywhere, so he followed a familiar road back home, cruising at a steadier speed. The old, more-than-meets-the-eye warehouse approached, and he was glad when the garage opened before he has the chance to press the button, and he could pull right inside. Wonwoo was leaning against the door frame that lead up to the main hallway, a barely-there smile gracing his usually stoic expression.

“Mingyu’s up and around” he spoke quietly, but Seungcheol had developed a keen ear for the young boy, and clambered off of his bike to join him. The two climbed the many flights of stairs to the only door, and opened it into the hallway, proper heating finally covering Seungcheol’s skin.

“Oh, and… Jisoo..? His friend is here” Wonwoo added as Seungcheol’s fingers closed around the door handle. Seungcheol sighed and turned the handle, stepping inside and holding the door for Wonwoo. Immediately, he noticed that Seokmin and Soonyoung were in an intense Mario Kart battle, on the Wii they had saved up to get two years ago. Soonyoung appeared to be doing just fine, with a band-aid slapped across his cheek and competitive fire burning in his eyes as he tried to hurl a banana towards Seokmin’s car. His eyes traveled to the back of the room, where Mingyu was leaning on a wall, a few dark bruises decorating the side of his face. Wonwoo immediately walked over and pulled Mingyu into a hug, and Seungcheol looked away, respecting their privacy. Chan was trying not to get hit in the face by a remote, Junhui and Minghao were sitting on the back of the couch, laughing their asses off. Jisoo was also around, slightly. He was seated on a chair near the wall, leaning on his friend Jeonghan’s side. Seungkwan and Hansol were at the dining room table, playing what looked to be solitaire, even though Seungcheol could tell Hansol was just staring at Seungkwan, not even contributing. The only person missing was Jihoon. Not 30 seconds later, the smallest wandered into the room, holding some sort of concoction out to Seungcheol.

“Is this alcoholic?” He asked, taking the glass.

“Yes.” Jihoon confirmed, and smiled as he added, “very”

Seungcheol nodded and took a sip. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it tasted great. Nobody seemed to have noticed him so far, so he leaned against the counter quietly, observing. The Wii round came to an end, and Soonyoung raised his fist in victory, throwing his arms around Seokmin’s midriff. Seungcheol smiled to himself, pushing a stray piece of hair out of his face and taking the time to study the two newcomers. Jisoo was smaller, with golden skin similar to Mingyu’s. The other one, Jeonghan, was more slender and pale, with almost feminine beauty. His black hair was pushed behind his ear, kind eyes taking in his surroundings. His eyes traveled over to Seungcheol, and their gazes met for a moment before Seungcheol looked back at the television. 

“Seungcheol! Our own little flirt!” Junhui exclaimed, and suddenly the attention was on him. He smiled over his glass.

“What can I say?” He laughed, and Junhui, very obviously drunk, pointed in his general direction.

“That you liked it” He snorted, and a few laughs raised from around the room. “And that you look really hot in that shirt. Mingyu, let him keep that shirt, he looks better than you ever will” He looked back over his shoulder at his friend. Mingyu cracked a smile and nodded.

“He does look nice” Mingyu confirmed, and Wonwoo poked his arm viciously. Mingyu jokingly grabbed his arm and made a pained expression, then slipping his arm around Wonwoo and pulling him close. Seungcheol laughed as well, relishing in the feeling. It had been way too long since they did this, just acted like a big family. Sometimes he forgot they were all professional criminals. Sometimes he forgot everyone here had been beaten down and broken, so much so they had turned to stealing, hacking, even murder. He forgot that two of the people in this room were nursing bullet wounds, forgot that he had just seduced a man to his death. Sometimes, it was good to forget.

He jumped when someone practically appeared beside him, and looked over to see who it was.

“Hey, I’m Jeonghan” He smiled, and Seungcheol blinked.

“I know” He mumbled, folding one arm across his chest and raising his glass to his lips to take a long sip.

“And you are…?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

“Sorry, sorry. Seungcheol.” He let himself smile a bit, although the smile was a bit forced. He hated meeting new people. Jeonghan included. He shifted so the counter was pressed into his lower back, and noticed that Jeonghan was taller than him. Not that it bothered him, it was just… interesting, that someone that looked so feminine was taller than he was. He doubted Jeonghan had ever even stolen a lollipop from a department store. He reached behind himself and pulled open a drawer, forgetting what was inside. He pulled out a pistol and sighed, putting it back inside among the few magazines.

“Is there a weapon in every drawer in this house?” Jeonghan asked sarcastically, and Seungcheol rolled his eyes.

“Practically. You know, gun collecting is a huge hobby of mine. Hardly use them though, my career doesn’t allow it” He scoffed, and Jeonghan laughed. The sound was pure, and halfway between normal tone and loud. It was genuine too. Seungcheol noticed that his head tilted back when he laughed, that his eyes closed and he didn’t stop smiling after it was over. Jeonghan locked eyes with him again, and Seungcheol looked away quickly, not having anything else to say. He finished his drink and used the excuse to walk over to the sink, waving at Hansol as he passed the table and entered the kitchen. He turned the water on and washed the glass, shutting off the faucet and turning around with a towel in hand. Jeonghan was standing in the middle of the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you avoiding me?” He asked, jutting his hit out slightly. Seungcheol looked down and dried it off, opening a cabinet above him to put it away.

“No.” He finally responded, pushing himself up so he could sit on the counter.

“I want to get to know you, you seem interesting” Jeonghan chided, relaxing and putting his hands in his jean pockets.

“I’m really not” Seungcheol responded, his shoulders folding in slightly. 

“You’re in a gang, you’ve got to have something.” Jeonghan snorted, and Seungcheol looked away. “Or are you just shy?” He asked, this time quieter and softer. Luckily, Chan came to Seungcheol’s rescue… he thought.

“Oh yeah, Cheolie gets really shy around new people, he’s bad at making friends” Chan grinned, looking at Jeonghan. The youngest used to be the same way- timid, quiet, flinched a lot- but he’s since evolved. Seungcheol, while he might not be scared by things easily, was still on the quiet side. 

“Is that so, Cheolie~”

Seungcheol glared at Chan, who winked at him and half-walked half-skipped out of the room. The leader leaned back with his head against a cabinet and desperately wished he could walk out onto the roof to collect himself. He was usually all in the action, but with Jisoo and Jeonghan here…

“So what do you do?” Jeonghan interrupted his train of thought.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“What’s do you do? Like, what’s your specialty. Can you shoot from a motorcycle like Hansol?” 

“So he was bragging again huh? Man, Seungkwan loves to flaunt him.”

“How did you know it was Seung-“

“I live with these people” Seungcheol interrupted, and Jeonghan giggled. “Well. I- uh… I’m the leader, for starters. I kinda just keep order, I handle the dangerous missions. First in, last out, you know?” He stumbled over his words a bit, but Jeonghan just nodded and smiled politely.

“I noticed most of them have names they go by, do you?”

“I, Well, I used to. After a certain… event, I used my real name.”

“What was it? What event?” Jeonghan was clearly thrilled he was eliciting a response from the leader.

“Well, it was S. Coups. And the event… I don’t tell many people this, but I didn’t use my real name because I didn’t want to tie any of my actions to my family. But, well, now they’re gone, so I’ve got nothing to fear”

Jeonghan paled a bit, and Seungcheol cringed, shoving past his shoulder as he quickly hurried out of the room, opening his door and closing it rather viciously behind himself. He opened the door that led to the utility closer out of the small bathroom in the room, and grabbed the metal bars that led up to the roof, boosting himself up and shoving open the trapdoor, pulling himself up as closing the door with his foot behind him. The night had gotten significantly colder, but he didn’t care. Even if he got cold easily, it didn’t really matter. Being sick didn’t affect his schedule too much. He walked over to the edge of the roof and sat down, hanging his feet over the side and pulling a cigarette out of the package, sticking the end in his mouth and lighting it. The trapdoor has locked behind him, as it always did, but someone would come get him eventually, like they always did. He exhaled and blew the smoke out of his mouth, pursing his lips before lifting the cigarette. He sat like that for a while, in the dark and quiet, an unhealthy amount of smoke entering and exiting his legs. Damn, one day this would kill him, but he didn’t care. He’d die before that day anyways. A raindrop fell on his arm, and he shoved the lit end of the cigarette into the concrete behind him, flicking the extinguished butt off of the side of the building. He sat still, letting the rain soak into his clothes and roll down his skin. It picked up, and soon it was nearly pouring, and he watched a steady stream of water cascade off of the top of his boot. The water was freezing, and he found himself trembling, but he didn’t make any attempt to go back inside. He couldn’t, not yet, anyways. A drop of water clung to his eyelashes, and he blinked to flick it away, eventually shifting back on the heels of his hands and tilting his head back so the rain poured directly on his face. His shirt gripped his skin, his hair was matted to his forehead, the gel having washed out. 

“Seungcheol?” He heard hesitantly from behind him, and he sighed, not looking back. A gentle hand touched his back, and he glanced over as someone sat down next to him. It was Seungkwan, always having been the second-hand caretaker after himself. He pushed his hair out of his face, and slung his arm across Seungkwan’s shoulders, the other smiling and rubbing his lower back a bit.

“You ready to go back inside? You’ll catch something nasty if you stay out here in the rain” Seungkwan asked, not-so-casually pushing the soggy box of cigarettes off of the edge of the building. Seungcheol didn’t really care, he was trying to stop anyways. He let himself be pulled to his feet by Seungkwan, and walked back towards the door with him, hopping down without even glancing at the handles. He pulled his (Mingyu’s, actually) soaking shirt off and slung it over the top of the bathroom door to dry, sliding both his shoes and socks off in favor of dry feet. 

Seungkwan left the room, closing the door softly behind himself and giving Seungcheol some privacy. He dug through his closet, trying to find the soft red sweatshirt he always slept in, and found that it wasn’t in there. He crossed the room and pulled the door open, walking outside in search of his roommate without a second thought. 

“Chan?” He asked as he entered the main room, his eyes drifting around to locate the youngest, sitting on the counter kicking his feet slightly out in front of him. Chan looked up, not seeming entirely distracted by the partially clothed state of his leader.

“Where’s my red sweatshirt? The one Minghao gave me last year.” He added onto his previous statement, and Chan stopped to think, his feet pausing.

“It might be in the laundry or my dresser, sometimes I mix up our clothes on accident” He responded, and Seungcheol nodded, turning back to the door and stretching his arms as he kicked it closed with his heel. He opened up the top drawer on Chan’s dresser and carefully checked through the folded jackets, finding nothing, and walked back out into the main room. The laundry room was just off of the kitchen, so he turned through the dining room and passed by Jeonghan, who was leaning against the wall picking at his fingernails. Jeonghan looked up as he walked by, but didn’t say anything, so Seungcheol continued on and into the laundry room, opening up the dryer and ducking down. Sure enough, his red Under Armor sweatshirt was in there. He took it out and closed the door again, deciding to fold it all tomorrow, and walked back through the kitchen while trying to turn it right-side-in. He noticed a pair of eyes trailed on his back, and stopped walking, half-turning and he slipped his arms through the hoodie sleeves before pulling it over his head. He could have swore Jeonghan looked away all too quickly, a bit of red decorating his cheeks, but he brushed it off and pulled the sweatshirt over his head, reaching up to make sure it didn’t knock the backs off of his 2 earrings, both on the right side. One was a small black standard piercing. The other, what did Soonyoung call it, helix? Something like that, was a silver crucifix. The second had been his old friend’s. As he entered the main room, he just barely managed to avoid running right into Seokmin, who was running away from a blur that seemed to be Soonyoung. 

“What are they doing?” He asked Mingyu, who was the closest to him. Mingyu shrugged, but the amused smile on his face told Seungcheol that he didn’t really mind.

“They’re doing what they should be doing” he finally answered, and then paused before adding “they’re being kids.”

-=+=-

Jeonghan was just about ready to to church with Jisoo and beg for forgiveness. The pure amount of sin that went through his mind when Seungcheol walked into the room shirtless was enough to send him to the deepest circle of hell. Before he left, he had managed to get Sehngcheol’s phone number “just in case” and head home without turning bright red. True, this was just because damn he looked hot in that shirt and makeup, and this would probably pass by next week. But still, it felt nice to be able to succeed. He flopped onto his bed in his small apartment, and wiggled around uselessly, dropping his phone on the floor. They had already hashed out the details, Jeonghan would go over again tomorrow to bring Jisoo home, and probably never hear from any of them ever again. But that didn’t matter, he had Seungcheol’s phone number. He turned his head and looked at the clock, noticing it was far later than he had expected, and half-heartedly chucked his jacket on the floor, burying his face in his pillow and letting his eyes close.

-=+=-

His phone ringing brought him back to the world, and he picked it up, pressing the “accept” button.

“What?” He asked viciously, and heard a low chuckle from the other line.

“Not a morning person, huh?” A familiar voice responded, and Jeonghan paused, his breath catching in his throat.

“H-Hey Seungcheol, What can I do for you?” He asked, standing up and trying to make himself sound like he hadn’t just died inside.

“I guess you were tired, hm? It’s 11:30.” He added, and Jeonghan could hear the amusement in his voice.

“It is? Shit shit, sorry- I’ll be right there.” He mumbled, and Seungcheol laughed again. Jeonghan admitted to himself that he could get used to that sound. 

“It’s fine, Hannie, do you just want to meet me somewhere for lunch or something? I can drive you two home afterward” he suggested, and Jeonghan started nodding before he realized he was on the phone.

“Yeah sure, where do you want to go?” He ran a hand through his hair, and a bit of silence came from the other line before a response.

“Are you close to the uh.. that one diner.. what’s the name? It has a really cool 50s vibe-“

“I know what you’re talking about, yeah. I’m like 5 minutes away. I can meet you guys there, if you’d like. Uh… when?” He knew he sounded weird, but he didn’t care. 

“Hm. 12.” Seungcheol decided, not even giving Jeonghan a chance.

“S-see you then” Jeonghan quickly hung up, and then realized he hadn’t let Seungcheol say anything else. Well, no going back now. He hopped in the shower and washed up, changing into light jeans and a soft aqua sweater. Outside it was a bit dreary, but not raining, so he just sucked it up and started walking towards the diner. 

He pushed the door open and spotted Jisoo immediately, walking over and sliding into the seat Jisoo was in, finally looking up at Seungcheol. The gang leader had his arm across the back of the booth, a worn leather jacket over a tight white v-neck. Jeonghan looked over at Jisoo and smiled, reaching out and rubbing his shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, and Jisoo sighed. 

“I’m fine, feel a little gross but..” Jeonghan pulled him into a gentle hug and ran a hand over the bandage on his arm.

“I’ve been thinking, Hannie” Jisoo started, and Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, looking over at him. “I’m probably going to go back to LA” he finished, and Jeonghan’s lips parted unexpectedly.

“Alright. Okay. Yeah, you should go home” Jeonghan pat Jisoo’s knee and smiled again. He was scared at the sudden aspect of losing his friend, but he knew it was the best option available. 

“You’re from LA?” Seungcheol asked, the first words he had said yet, and leaned forward with his forearms in the table. Jisoo nodded, and Jeonghan tuned out as they started talking about various key features of the city. Apparently Seungcheol, at some point in his life, had been to Los Angeles.

You learn something new every day.

“Jeonghan?” Jisoo asked again, and his attention turned back. “I already bought tickets. I’m flying out on Wednesday.” He sighed, and Jeonghan remembered it was Tuesday.

“So.. tomorrow?” Jisoo nodded, and Jeonghan frowned. Tomorrow was way too soon. 

“Will you be back?” Jeonghan asked, and Jisoo shrugged.

“Probably. Won’t be for a while though.”

The conversation at the table fell silent, and Jeonghan took the time to observe the two other people. Jisoo looked like he always did- soft brown hair, and an equally as charming smile. Cat-like eyes that were somehow always warm. A baggy pink shirt hung off of his slender frame, and Jeonghan vaguely wondered if one of the members had lent it to him. Not that he cared, he shouldn’t be associated with a gang that fucking killed people anyways. Or one that had guns in every corner of their homes- especially not with a leader like the one that sat across from him.

Seungcheol was laid-back, he looked almost at ease. Jeonghan would have believed his show, would have thought he fit right in, if it weren’t for the cold, paranoid blankness in his dark eyes. The faint scent of smoke clung to his clothing, a stray strand of hair hanging in his face. He looked unkempt, but somehow effortlessly beautiful. He noticed that Seungcheol’s hands were always fidgeting, teasing the corner of his napkin or shirt, working through his hair. Jeonghan pursed his lips. It didn’t seem to be anything other than a nervous reaction, but why was he nervous? Was it still the paranoia? 

The waiter approached their table, holding two plates of food, and set one in front of Jeonghan, the other in front of Jisoo. Seungcheol shrugged his jacket off and sat down on it, and Jeonghan realized how tight his shirt was. The material looked soft and well-made as well, he was half tempted to run his hands over (under would be better) the fabric. He caught Seungcheol’s gaze, and the expression that crossed his face told him he had seen Jeonghan blatantly staring at his chest.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Jisoo asked, gesturing at Seungcheol with his chopsticks. He shook his head, clearly knowing he was the odd man out. He didn’t seem to mind.

Jeonghan ate quietly, Jisoo as engrossed in his food as Jeonghan was. Seungcheol was typing something on his phone, staring at the screen with furrowed eyebrows. His phone rang in his hand, and he looked guiltily up at the two.

“Excuse me” He mumbled, and stood up, pressing answer and raising the device to his ear. Jeonghan heard the start of the conversation, and looked over at Jisoo, mildly confused.

“Was that Spanish?” He asked, and Jisoo nodded, chewing on a bite of food. His eyes twinkled. “Great. Smart and hot, why are you abandoning me to this?!” Jeonghan scolded accusingly, and Jisoo shrugged, swallowing and opening his mouth to speak.

“No, I don’t want to hear your apologies” Jeonghan humphed, and Jisoo rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a drama queen, Hannie” Jisoo sounded exasperated, but he was smiling. “I’m gonna miss you, you big dork” He sighed, and pulled Jeonghan into a hug. He blinked tears away, and rubbed Jisoo’s back.

“I’m gonna miss you too”

-=+=-

“Is this it?” Seungcheol asked nervously, his index finger tapping the leather steering wheel of his red Range Rover. It was a nice car, Jeonghan had noticed, and he was curious about just how rich this man was. How did he even get paid? Being a hitman? Dealing weapons? Jeonghan shook his head to himself and stepped out of the car to wrap his arms around Jisoo and hold him close. It was unlikely he’d see Jisoo again before he flew out. Jisoo had to practically push him away, unlocking his door and throwing a glance over his shoulder before sheepishly waving and stepping inside. Jeonghan rubbed his eyes furiously, throwing open the passenger door and pulling himself up into the car.

“You okay?” Seungcheol asked once Jeonghan settled himself in the seat.

“Yeah.” Jeonghan lied, and Seungcheol pulled back out into the street, glancing over at the silent passenger after a few minutes.

“There something to make it better?” He asked again, and Jeonghan furrowed his eyebrows.

“Ice cream.” Jeonghan blurted. Ice cream had always been his go-to ‘I’m depressed’ food, so it seemed appropriate. He thought he saw Seungcheol’s signature lazy smile.

“Ice cream it is then.”

-=+=-

Jeonghan sat quietly at the small table inside the ice cream parlor he had directed Seungcheol to and shoved a spoonful of cookie dough into his mouth, humming contentedly. Seungcheol snorted, dipping his head down quickly, but Jeonghan caught him smiling. He ate another spoonful and jokingly moaned, to which Seungcheol rolled his eyes so hard Jeonghan thought they’d fall out of his skull. 

“Why don’t you eat something?” Jeonghan whined after he swallowed, and Seungcheol shrugged.

“I’m not that hungry.” He responded plainly, and Jeonghan sighed.

“You’re stubborn.”

“You barely know me!” Seungcheol hissed, and it was Jeonghan’s turn to roll his eyes. The pair settled into a slightly awkward one-way silence, with Jeonghan happily eating and not acknowledging the atmosphere. 

“So what do you do?” Seungcheol asked after a bit, and Jeonghan flicked his hair out of his face.

“I’m a psychologist” he answered, and Seungcheol nodded.

“Guess that means you’re really smart, huh?” Seungcheol sighed, running his thumb over a small nick in the leather of his jacket.

“I mean, I’d hope so” Jeonghan joked, and Seungcheol laughed half-heartedly. The gang leader looked up when the bell on the door rung quietly, and immediately tensed, his hand shifting to his waistband. Jeonghan knew he had a gun tucked in the back of his jeans, but he didn’t comment on it before. Now, the threat seemed a little more real. He turned his head and made eye contact with another guy, and the guy made a gesture. Seungcheol laid both of his hands on the tabletop, completely flat.

“Act like nothing’s happening” he mumbled to Jeonghan, and Jeonghan just continued eating his ice cream. He really hoped Seungcheol knew what he was doing. 

“Eeey, Chollie~” someone cooed, slamming one hand on the table.

“Namjoon. What’s up?” Seungcheol drawled, looking up. 

“You see, I know you’ve got car knowledge-“

“Did you break something again?” He sighed, and Namjoon nodded. “You didn’t have to scare the shit out of me, you know” he grumbled, and Namjoon laughed a little. Seungcheol loosened up and managed to smile a little bit, but Jeonghan could see the worry still in his eyes. Years of working with people could do that to your observational skills. Seungcheol looked over at Jeonghan, as if he were asking permission. Jeonghan shrugged and Seungcheol stood up, grabbing his keys out of his jacket and leaving it over the back of the chair. He reached out and took Jeonghan’s shoulder, leaning down so he could speak quietly.

“Sorry about this, I’ll be right back, okay? If you finish up you can come outside if you want, the car’s gonna be on” 

Jeonghan nodded and Seungcheol released his shoulder, following Namjoon out the door.

-=+=-

Seungcheol pulled the jumper cables out of his trunk, and popped the hood as a couple guys pushed the neutral car into the spot next to his. Namjoon struggles to open up the hood, and Seungcheol had to reach over and hold it up so he didn’t crush his fingers.

“So you just killed the battery, huh?” He asked, and Namjoon nodded, leaning forward and staring at the engine.

“How does any of this make any sense to you?” He mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows, and Seungcheol laughed.

“Years of working with cars. I almost became a mechanic.” Seungcheol explained, clipping the red cable up to the positive terminal of both batteries. He then took the black cable and clipped it onto the negative terminal of Namjoon’s car and to one of the metal struts that held the hood up on his car, opening the door and pushing the ignition. He let his engine run, exhaling and leaning against the front of the red car.

“So do I got this right? Positive of yours to positive of mine. Negative of mine to metal of yours?” He asked, and Seungcheol nodded again.

“Unpainted metal though. Then start the working car and let it run for a little while. Usually like 15 minutes has got the baby up and runnin’ again” he joked, and Namjoon nodded, writing something down. 

“Who’s car even is this?” Seungcheol snorted, looking down the side of the old vehicle. “You’d never buy a FIAT, if you did I think I’d have to take you out just for disgracing the people who actually appreciate vehicular transport.” 

“In the dating kind of way or assassination kind of way?” Namjoon smiled, and Seungcheol narrowed his eyes.

“I’ll surprise you” 

“Anyways. That’s my husband’s car” he sighed.

“Seokjin, right?” Seungcheol sounded hesitant.  
“Yep. He just really liked the car, even though it doesn’t run smoothly. I feel like I’m churning butter every time I have to drive it.”

Seungcheol laughed again, quieter this time, and his attention was drawn to the door as Jeonghan walked out, clutching his coat and shivering against the breeze. He waved Jeonghan over and Namjoon shifted closer to him.

“He yours?” He asked, his voice low and nearly silent.

“Nah” Seungcheol responded, and Namjoon stood back up straight.

“That’s a shame”

Seungcheol shrugged, not thinking much of the comment as Jeonghan approached, throwing Seungcheol’s coat at him, then standing next to him. He tossed the jacket over Jeonghan’s shoulders and Jeonghan didn’t complain, drawing the sides closer and sliding his arms into the coat. Namjoon kicked his shin, and Seungcheol glared daggers at the taller man, his hand hovering over the clamp. Namjoon’s eyes widened, and he mock-bowed. Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest again, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and noticing that Soonyoung had called him. He unlocked the device and dialed Soonyoung again, putting the phone on speaker.

“Hey, boss” Soonyoung responded, his voice distorted through the speaker.

“Hey Hosh.” He answered, and Soonyoung went silent for a moment, recognizing that his alias had been used. That was a code for “you’re on speaker with people that aren’t to know things around” or “someone could hear”.

“Yeah, so, DK’s gotta see his sister so he took your bike to ride up to the library. Keep an ear out for any news” he sighed, and Seungcheol hummed his understanding. 

“And How is Vernon doing?” He asked, and Soonyoung responded with a quick “fine”

“Later, boss”

The line went dead, and he slid his phone back in his pocket. He noticed Jeonghan looking at him with a troubled expression.

“Hosh? DK?” He asked, and Seungcheol’s lips tugged up in the corners.

“Code names” he mumbled, and Jeonghan smiled.

“That’s pretty cool. What do you think my code name would be?” He wondered, and Seungcheol looked back forwards, scratching his forearm.

“Depending on who picked it, it’d be different. Seungkwan usually gives everyone names, his for you would probably be angel or somethin’” he sighed, and Jeonghan beamed.

“Angel? I like it.”

“I do too” Seungcheol smiled a bit as well, and Jeonghan tucked is hair behind his ear, looking over at Seungcheol. Their eyes met, and Seungcheol looked quickly away, reaching back and pulling the clamps off of the battery and rolling them up, slamming his hood and walking around to the back. He closed the trunk and walked up to Namjoon, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Smooth.”

“Your brain matter will be on the hood of that fucking car if you say one more word” he growled, yanking the knife out of his boot and flicking it open. 

“Woah there, Johnny, no need to stab me, I’m not drowning anybody.”

He did the knife back and walked over to the driver’s side door, making sure to flip his friend off before pulling himself into the vehicle. Jeonghan was already in the passenger seat, his finger’s barely poking out of the sleeves of Seungcheol’s jacket.

“I hope you don’t like this jacket cause you’re never getting it back” Jeonghan commented, and Seungcheol shrugged.

“I don’t mind. It’s old, anyways.” He lied, the image of his brother handing him that jacket flashing through his head. Too many memories. He should have burned it when he set fire to his old house after the ‘incident’. 

“It smells like smoke, you smoke?” Jeonghan accused, and Seungcheol pursed his lips.

“Sometimes. If I’m stressed.” He admitted, and Jeonghan glared at him from across the car, which somehow seemed more intimidating than the time he had a gun barrel pressed to the side of his chin. 

“Tell me some stories” Jeonghan requested after pulling his apartment complex up on the GPS.

“I haven’t got any.” 

“How about when you were younger? I’m sure something happened when you were a kid” Jeonghan kept pushing, and Seungcheol figured he better be honest if he was gonna let Jeonghan keep his belongings.

“Uh, let’s see. I grew up a couple hours from here, tiny beach city. My dad and my mom fought, but it was no more than normal couple stuff. I had an older brother and a younger sister that both shared a room with me. I went to school and got decent grades, but in Junior eat shot went downhill fast. My dad took up some job and disappeared, my grades started dropping so I could help my mom take care of my brother, who had to pay for college, and my sister, who was still young. Even with me getting Cs and Ds we scraped by, barely even noticed that dad was gone.

“He came back, though. He was a different man. He kind of roughed my mom up, so I stepped in, and he ended up dislocating my shoulder and slamming my head against a wall. To this day I blame him for how fucked in the head I am. He never got my sister though, he liked her. He didn’t like me cause I took his place as head of the house. He didn’t care about my brother cause he was never around.

“He brought his friends over, and they were shooting in the backyard cause we had a big field behind us, and my mom went out to ask me to stop. She never walked back in the house, so my sister and I decided to go out too and make sure she was fine. Worst damn decision I’ve ever made. They were drunk, sure, but they were the stupidest sons of bitches I’ve ever seen.” He paused and took a shuddering breath, subconsciously gripping the steering wheel tighter. “They- they shot my momma” his voice cracked halfway through the sentence, but he forced it down and avoided Jeonghan’s pitiful gaze.

“They saw us and thought we’d call the cops so they started shootin’ at us too. My sister got shot, but I didn’t, I got outside and I called the fuckin cops. They came and arrested my dad and his friends, and I was old enough to live alone so… they just left me be. I went back to my house that night and got that jacket, the one you’re wearing, out of my closet. My brother gave it to me before he left. I got it because it was cold out, and then went back outside and… poured gasoline all over the front room and out the door. The house went up in flames with the drop of a match.

“So I got my bike and went to the city, made a name for myself. I got arrested for petty larceny and met Hansol in the pig pen. He was 14 at the time, believe it or not. In the big boy prison for robbing a jewelry store to give his sister enough money to follow her dreams. When we both got out, we stuck together, picked up more people along the way. Seungkwan was 15 when we picked him up from some deadbeat mom that gave him bruises when he couldn’t do everything perfectly. Got Wonwoo as an escapee from an orphanage. Mingyu sauntered in, drunk as fuck, blood running down his face, so we figured he’d fit right in too” he let himself laugh, and reached up to wipe his wet cheeks. Why was he blubbering over this? To Jeonghan, no less. “Jihoon ran face-first into Hansol while reading a book, and we found out he was some arms dealer. Soonyoung got out of a rival gang and didn’t have anywhere to go, Seokmin ran away from home. Minghao and Junhui moved from China when they thought they had nothing left. We’re all misfits. We’ve all got some bullshit backstory that belongs in an adventure movie. Hell, our entire lives could be some plot twist in a Stephen King novel. Good kids gone bad. All of ‘em are still good to me, though. 

Sometimes, I can hear Minghao crying through the wall. Soonyoung and Seokmin never had the chance to be kids. Hansol doesn’t know what is like to have clean hands. Seungkwan still has scars all over his back. Wonwoo doesn’t know if he has anyone but us. Mingyu drinks to forget, Jihoon finds comfort in staring down the front of a pistol, Junhui spends his life around cars when he should be at college parties. You see, we’re all the same in the end. We’ve all got something wrong with us, and we’ve all only got each other. Sorry, I just-“ he stopped and laughed a bit, although he could still feel tear tracks on his face. “I’ve taken care of them for so long.” He finished, and noticed that Jeonghan was silent. He also noticed they were at his house, so he pulled into a parking spot, his hands still resting loosely on the steering wheel.

“I said a lot. You- you probably have stuff to do. You should go” he mumbled, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against the backs of his hands. 

“No, Seungcheol, I-“

“Just go” Seungcheol interrupted, his voice sharp. Jeonghan didn’t move, and his face shifted from shocked to determined. 

“No. I’m not leaving this car until I can tell you’re not an emotional wreck” his voice was steady, unwavering.

“I guess you live here now” Seungcheol half-joked, and his forced smile went straight to Jeonghan’s heart. 

“I know I can’t say I understand, Cheol. I haven’t experienced what you’ve gone through, but I do feel sympathy for you. I wish none of that had ever happened, I wish you still had a home to return to. Wishing can’t bring it back though, so I need you to breathe, and think about that’s keeping you anchored down, rooted to reality. Focus on that point, and emphasize it. You feel secure, don’t you?” He instructed, a bit of his work bleeding into his words. Seungcheol rubbed his eyes and dipped his head back to lean on the seat, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

“Okay, nurse Hannie” he grumbled, and Jeonghan reached over and smacked his knee playfully. Seungcheol’s head shifted slightly and he looked over at Jeonghan quizzically, his eyebrows turned down inside.

“Afternoon, Seungcheol. Take care of yourself.” He said farewell, and quickly stepped out of the car, disappearing into his apartment complex. Seungcheol knotted his hands into his hair let out a groan, knowing he was the only one that had heard it. 

Yoon Jeonghan was confusing.

-=+=-

Seungkwan ran his fingers through Hansol’s silky, slightly wavy hair with one hand, the other turning a page in his book. The dorm was virtually quiet, with everyone out and about, so he didn’t protest when Hansol had waddled out of their room still wrapped in blankets and laid down on his chest, almost immediately falling asleep again. He had a feeling Hansol was getting sick, but he didn’t want to bring it up just yet, hesitant to add another medical issue onto Hansol’s never-ending pile. He shifted his hand down to touch Hansol’s forehead, delighted to find it was a normal temperature. Hansol wiggled a bit and brushed his hand across Seungkwan’s thigh, exhaling and opening his eyes.

“Your heartbeat is speeding up” he mumbled, and moved again so his head was resting on Seungkwan’s shoulder.

“Are you getting embarrassed?” Hansol teased, and Seungkwan flicked the back of his head.

“Bite me.” He snorted, and could almost feel the pleasure and amusement radiating off of Hansol as he retorted with:

“Where?”  
Seungkwan slammed his book shut and put it on the table.

“You’re unbelievable” Seungkwan chided, and Hansol just giggled, splaying one hand across Seungkwan’s chest and swinging a leg across Seungkwan so he could sit up and straddle his hips. The older tried to push Hansol off, but failed miserably as Hansol shifted and leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of Seungkwan’s neck. Seungkwan gently worked one hand into Hansol’s hair, tugging lightly on the strands in one last, futile attempt to stop him, but Hansol just left a trail of sloppy kisses up Seungkwan’s throat and across his jaw, finally catching his lips and deepening the kiss, tilting his head to the side. He let Hansol take control, giving him full access and taking plenty of time mapping Hansol’s torso with his fingertips. Even through the cloth of Hansol’s shirt, he could feel the definition near his waistband, the slight curve of his hip, the way the muscles in his back shifted when he moved his hand to brace himself on the arm of the couch. Hansol, on the other hand, was “studying” the curve of Seungkwan’s lips, his somehow sweet taste even though he drank his coffee black (and bitter as shit) and didn’t have much of a sweet tooth. 

Seungkwan was forced to, begrudgingly, break the kiss, when he felt like his lungs were going to implode. Hansol rolled off of him and settled back into his side, leaving Seungkwan dazed and panting slightly, trying to gain control of both his emotions and respiratory system.

“You’re amazing” Hansol mumbled, tracing patterns on Seungkwan’s side underneath the hem of his shirt. Seungkwan moved his arm so he could hug Hansol to his side, and smiled to himself, staring up at the ceiling.

“And you’re beautiful” he whispered. 

Hansol wrapped his arms around Seungkwan’s waist and held him tighter, humming contentedly at the contact between the pair. 

“I love you” Seungkwan cooed, and Hansol’s eyes started to close slightly.

“I love you too” he managed to respond, before falling back asleep, the couch cushion against his back and Seungkwan against his chest, warmth completely surrounding him. 

-=+=-

Seokmin nervously pushed the library doors open, his eyes darting all around, looking for the person he was here for. He finally located him in the corner, walking over quickly and taking a seat beside him. Kyungsoo looked up, his eyebrows raised.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice none too gentle.

“I just thought we could talk-“

“You thought wrong, Seokmin” he snapped, closing his book.  
Seokmin caught the title. Theoretical Physics.

“So you’re here for university?” He asked gently, and Kyungsoo settled back down.

“Yes.” He was still harsh.

“What are you studying?”

“Theoretical Physics and astrophysics.” He responded coldly, hardly even looking in Seokmin’s direction. 

“You’re smart, Soo” he mumbled, and Kyungsoo seemed satisfied with the compliment.

“So, What excuse did you use to get your ass away from your fucking gang to get over here?” Kyungsoo questioned, his tone nothing but accusatory. 

“I told them I was seeing family” he responded to the question as well as he could. True, Kyungsoo wasn’t family, but he was very old friend. 

“You? See your family again? Willingly? That’s the plainest lie I’ve heard all day” He snorted, and Seokmin flushed. 

“Have you found anyone?” Seokmin asked, trying to lighten the mood. He couldn’t tell if he succeeded or not.

“Yes, I have. His name is Jongin. He’s into the whole gang thing too” he sneered. “But he’s actually kind and trusting, unlike you” he threw the insult at Seokmin, who felt as if he had been speared through the heart. He rubbed at his eyes with his sleeves and took in a small gasp for a breath. Almost immediately, the tension broke, and Kyungsoo hopped up, panicking. 

“Oh god- don’t cry, please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry- don’t cry, shhh” he chided, rubbing Seokmin’s back and pulling a tissue out of god knows where. 

“I’m sorry” he said again, and Seokmin remained silent.

“I’m happy for you, Kyungsoo” his voice was quiet and forced. 

The shorter cringed and sat back down, his fingers twitching. Seokmin knew he hated making or watching people cry. 

“Maybe I’ll see you around sometime” he whispered, and stood up, walking quickly to the exit as he pulled his gloves on from out of his pockets, the key already in hand. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Kyungsoo standing on the first step of the library, staring at him. He waved and swung a leg over the bike, turning the ignition and pulling away.

-=+=-

Soonyoung bounced down the stairs as he heard the garage opening and threw open the door, walking over to where Seungcheol’s older bike was parked. Seokmin would have taken his own, but Junhui had the engine taken apart to try and source the infernal rattling every time he started it up. Seokmin killed the engine and Soonyoung noticed he was shaking, immediately stopping.

“Seokmin?” He asked quietly, and the taller looked over his shoulder for a brief moment, then back down as he swung his leg off of the bike. Soonyoung walked closer, and Seokmin glared at him, starting towards the door. Soonyoung reached out and grabbed his wrist, and Seokmin stopped, still staring forward. He still had a slight tremor in his shoulder, and rosy cheeks. He still had tear tracks visible on his face.

“Seokmin what’s wrong?” Soonyoung mumbled, and Seokmin twisted his arm out of the smaller’s grip.

“I’m fine. Just- never mind” he sighed, and turned around to face Soonyoung. The smaller stepped forward and wiped the tears off of Seokmin’s face with his thumbs, and Seokmin leaned slightly into his touch.

“Didn’t go too well, huh?” Soonyoung whispered, pulling Seokmin forward and hugging him. Seokmin ducked his head down and buried it in Soonyoung’s neck, exhaling. His breath feathered across Soonyoung’s collarbone, and his grip tightened as Seokmin’s shoulders trembled again. He bent his knees and sat down on the floor, Seokmin following suit, pulling Soonyoung back into the hug. 

“Feeling a little touch starved, hm?” Soonyoung’s voice was a little breathy. Seokmin nodded into his shirt and practically purred when Soonyoung ran his hands through the taller’s hair. He knew that Seokmin got like this when he was upset, and he was always there to help. He shifted his hands and massaged Seokmin’s shoulders, tensing up at Seokmin’s quiet whine. 

Seokmin managed to collect himself, and sat up, his eyes free of tears.

“Thanks, Soonyoung” he smiled a bit. 

“It’s no problem” he responded, the exchange squeezing his heart. Seokmin stood up and held his hand out to Soonyoung, who let himself be pulled to his feet. Seokmin seemed… unaffected. Like whenever they shared a moment it meant nothing to him. Soonyoung supposed that was the truth, and went on with his little one-sided, elementary crush, knowing nothing would ever be made of it. 

“Are you… blushing?” Seokmin asked, evidently holding back a laugh. Soonyoung spluttered and choked on his own breath, managing to gasp out a violent “no!”, which made Seokmin smile, his eyebrows turning up on the insides and making him look blissful. 

“You’re totally blushing” he let out the laugh, and Soonyoung covered his face with his hands. Seokmin gently took his wrists so he could look at Soonyoung’s face, and his smile turned more delicate and observant. 

“Hey, Soon, look at me?” He requested quietly, and took both of Soonyoung’s wrists in one hand, the other brushing under his chin to tilt his head up and force the smaller to meet his eyes. The flush on his cheeks darkened and spread across his face and down the sides of his neck, and Seokmin’s hand shifted to trace Soonyoung’s jaw. He shifted a bit closer, and the few centimeter height difference seemed much greater now, as Soonyoung had to physically tilt his head back to be able to see Seokmin clearly. Soonyoung, always the nervous one, hesitantly lifted his hands from his sides, searching Seokmin’s expression for any sort of dissaproval. Instead, Seokmin nodded.

“Go ahead” he whispered, and Soonyoung placed his hands gingerly on the younger’s waist.

Seokmin’s free hand moved to Soonyoung’s lower back, and Soonyoung froze.

“What? What’s wrong?” Seokmin asked, immediately jerking his hand back. Was that some sensitive spot? He had no clue.

“You can’t possibly want- you’re not- You’re not gonna just throw me aside, right?” Soonyoung asked, his voice small.

“No, no, no Soon. Of course not, you know I would never use you like that” Seokmin immediately reassured him, placing his hand back where it had been. “If you want to stop-“

“No, no. Continue. I’m thoroughly enjoying this” Soonyoung smiled, now that his worries were out the window. Seokmin pulled him a bit closer so they were pressed up against each other, and Soonyoung’s eyes closed. He felt a soft pressure on the side of his mouth, and then again on his jaw.

“Oh my god, Seokmin you’re such a fucking tease you big dork I sw-“

Seokmin cut him off my fitting his lips against Soonyoung’s, his hand moving to play with the softer hairs at the base of Soonyoung’s neck. The older sighed into the kiss, practically melting from the pleasure that racked his body. In the back of his mind, he wondered if it was all a dream.

He felt Seokmin’s lips leave his, and whined at the sudden absence, finally letting his eyes open. Seokmin smirked and kissed the side of Soonyoung’s neck, who immediately tilted his head slightly and bit his lip to keep down the small groan that tried to force its way up his throat. He felt Seokmin gently bite down on his skin, and hissed. He wasn’t sure if he was in pain or just really, really kinky. If they were even that much different. Seokmin pulled back and made eye contact, brushing his fingertips over the newly sensitive patch of skin. 

“Mine now” he purred, and Soonyoung’s face heated up again. He pressed his face into the side of Seokmin’s neck to hide it, and Seokmin just wrapped his arms around the smaller and held him.

-=+=-

“Who leaves some shitty cryptic message lying around? What is this, Sherlock?” Mingyu threw the piece of paper down on the table.

“So let me get this straight, the Roses lackies approached you, handed you this paper, and just fucking left? No gun fight? No mugging?” Jihoon quirked an eyebrow at the man, and he nodded. Wonwoo pushed his glasses further up his face and scrunched up his nose, reading the line over and over.

“Rub a dub dub? Isn’t that a nursery rhyme? Hold on…” Wonwoo pointed out, and his gaze turned blank as he tried to recall the old rhyme.

“Rub a dub dub,  
Three men in a tub,  
And who do you think they be?  
The butcher,  
The baker,  
The candlestick maker,  
And all of them out to sea.” He blurted out after a minute of silence, and Jihoon wrote it down quickly.

“And what does that have to do with literally anything?” Mingyu asked, one hand resting on Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“I haven’t got a clue” Wonwoo sighed, gnawing on his lower lip and staring at what Jihoon had jotted down. “There’s also a variation that’s ‘and all of them gone to the fair’ but I can’t be sure which one they’re using” he added, his comment directed at the smallest in the room. Jihoon nodded and wrote that down as well.

“When I joined a gang I didn’t think I’d be solving puzzles” Mingyu huffed, and Jihoon threw him a glare.

“You’re not doing anything, Mingyu. The only thing you’ve done so far has been bringing us this headache.” He snorted, and Wonwoo’s perfectly sculpted features were graced with a small smile. Mingyu returned the glare and walked off somewhere, leaving the two brainiacs to their own devices.

“Seungkwan would be useful right now. If I walked into their room do you think Hansol would be naked? I do not want to see that” Jihoon thought aloud, shuddering to himself. 

“No, Hansol is still pretty battered up, and it seems like he’s getting sick. Seungkwan wouldn’t allow it” Wonwoo replied, even though a reply wasn’t necessary. 

“I heard my name” Hansol threw open his door, looking pointedly at Wonwoo, who played innocent and stared at Hansol as if he was crazy. 

“Do us a favor and send your boyfriend out here, will you?” Jihoon asked, and there was a faint rustling from the room, Seungkwan emerging a moment later. He made his way to the table and sat down, raising his eyebrows at Wonwoo.

“What are you wearing, hon?” He snorted, and Wonwoo flushed, his finger tracing a small nick in the wooden table. One of Mingyu’s big sweatshirts reached his mid-thigh, his boxers barely visible below the baggy fabric.

“Hey at least he’s wearing boxers” Hansol added, looking pleased with himself.

“Oh my god, Hansol, if you don’t have underwear on I will get my fucking gun-“ 

“Alright, Alright, point taken. I’ll go change” he quickly ran back into his room, true fear in his eyes. Seungkwan smiles smugly and read over the rhyme, his expression fading as it progressed.

“If I was talking, I’d say they just indirectly gave us the names of their leaders. I mean, ‘the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker’ sounds a bit ominous, right? Like a butcher is experienced in killing things, a baker at making things, and a candlestick maker would work with fire. So it would be their specialties? Don’t quote me on that though” he added the last bit rather quickly after seeing the looks on the other two’s faces.

“Boo Seungkwan, you’re some sort of fucking witch” Jihoon slammed his pen down.

“So what is it then, a hit list? Is it even for the Roses, or are they trying to team up with us against something? Why would they put themselves in this position?” Wonwoo sighed, scratching his forearm with the tip of a pencil. 

“The most beneficial message is teaming up, but they could also be drawing us into something that would mean our inevitable end. You know they hate us. So why?” Jihoon pushed his hair back, tapping his pen on the edge of the table in a rhythmic manner. Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, listening to the strange sound.

“Jihoon?” He asked, and the smaller looked up, raising the pen to his lips so he could gnaw on the end. 

“You can play a bunch of instruments, right?” He added, and Jihoon nodded, the pen temporarily leaving his mouth so he could list them.

“Drums, piano, guitar” He half-mumbled, sounding a bit disinterested. 

“If we go down to the library I can look for books or articles on the rhyme, and you can mess around with the old piano to calm yourself down” Wonwoo suggested, and Jihoon’s eyes twinkled.

“I haven’t played in a while with all the shit we have to do” he sighed, and Mingyu poked his head in from the other room.

“Maybe you’ll stop being so damn salty if you de-stressed. I don’t even care that you’d be going with Wonwoo, you’re that much of a pain in the ass” He gave Jihoon a smug smile, and the smaller stuck his tongue out. 

“I’ll come too!” Seungkwan offered, just as the door to his bedroom opens and Hansol emerged again, hopefully this time fully clothed.

“Aw, baby, you’re leaving me alone with Mingyu? You vicious creature” he said, flopping onto the couch with as much grace as Hansol could manage (not too much).

“Let’s get the fuck out of here” Jihoon stood up, and Wonwoo dashed off to put some pants on.

-=+=-

Seungcheol shrugged his jacket off and looked around the room, blinking. He was used to chaos, but this seemed a bit worse than usual. The only two calm people, surprisingly enough, were Soonyoung and Seokmin. Soonyoung was asleep in Seokmin’s arms, and Seokmin was watching some cheesy rom-com on the television with his chin propped on the top of Soonyoung’s head. Hansol appeared to be singing into a paper towel tube, with Seungkwan dancing horribly for backup. Chan was periodically bombarding the two with gummy worms, sometimes trying to get one into Mingyu’s mouth, who was standing on the opposite side of the room. Jihoon and Wonwoo were sitting in the corner looking as if they had had emotional breakdowns. Minghao and Jun were both performing a “traditional Chinese dance” and arguing over which one did better. (Were traditional Chinese dances even a thing? Seungcheol had no clue). 

“I’m stuck with a bunch of idiots” Seungcheol said to nobody in particular, debating grabbing his jacket and getting the fuck out of there. 

“Hey, guys, shut up” Hansol suddenly said, and everyone fell silent. He was staring at the screen of his phone, which was ringing in his hand. “It’s my mom” he added, his expression falling. Before anyone could say anything, he pressed accept, putting the phone on speaker.

“M-mom?” He stuttered, and there was a brief pause on the other line.

“Hansol. I called to tell you that your sister accepted a job at the college near you, and requested that you unblock her number.”

The speech was stiff and formal, and Seungcheol’s heart clenched at how unwelcoming it sounded. Even if her son was a delinquent, he was still her son, right?

“Mama, I miss you” Hansol sat down on the floor, and there was another pause.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you got arrested and ran away from home, Hansol.” She scolded, and Hansol’s face twisted slightly. 

“But I miss you too, baby. We all do. I know we haven’t talked in years, but we still want you to come home to us.” She sighed, and a tear fell down the young boy’s face. Sometimes Seungcheol forgot he was only 21, that he never even graduated high school. 

“I can’t, mom, you know that. I can’t come home now.” He gasped, and the other side of the line went dead without so much as a goodbye. His phone slipped out of his hand, hitting the floor. The sound seemed enhanced in the nearly silent room, everyone staring at the device on the ground. Soft cries came from Hansol, who had pulled his shirt up to cover his face, and Seungkwan immediately ushered him into their shared room, closing the door softly behind himself. The tension slowly lowered, and people began talking quietly among themselves, discussing what had happened. Seungcheol picked up Hansol’s phone and walked up to the door, soundlessly turning the knob and stepping inside. Seungkwan had Hansol curled up against his chest, crying into his shirt. Seungcheol set the device down on the side table and leaned against the wall, patiently waiting for Hansol to be able to calm himself down.

After a good ten minutes, he finally collected himself, although still occasionally scrubbing at his eyes. The phone on the table vibrated, and Seungcheol picked it up. 

‘Sofia’ was written across the top of the message, and he noticed that it was simply an address.

“Wh-who was it?” Hansol asked, and Seungkwan squeezed his hand.

“Your sister. She left her new address. If you want, I can go talk to her, clear the air.” Seungcheol responded, being as tentative and caring as he could be. Hansol nodded stiffly, and Seungkwan smiled up at the leader, mouthing ‘thank you’ before Seungcheol pulled his own phone out and took a picture of the address, setting it down and walking out. 

“Cheol-“

“His sister’s house” he cut off whoever was talking, not even bothering to check, before grabbing his red sweatshirt off the hook near the door and walking out the front door, into the hallway. 

He walked down the several flights of stairs, reading the address over and over and attempting to remember anything nearby the apartment complex listed. The name sounded strangely familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint from where. He quickly mapped it on his phone and realized where he had heard it. It was Jeonghan’s apartment complex. He remembered dropping him off in front of it and then driving away, past the campus center. Which meant he had to turn left out of the garage. Now that he had his directions all sorted out, he slid his phone into the holder on the front of his bike and dug his keys out of his pocket, jamming them into the ignition and turning it. The engine roared to life, and he pressed the garage switch on his keychain, swinging a leg over the bike to straddle the leather seat. He kicked the kickstand back and turned out onto the street, pressing the same button to close the garage before speeding up and weaving around an old white Volvo.

The building was surely one of the nicer apartment buildings in the city- free of vandalism with pristine blue paint. It occurred to him on the way here he probably should have abandoned his weapon, but if he was going to meet Sofia, he figured she better know what was going on. For that purpose, he strapped on the thigh holster in the storage on his bike and slid his pistol into that before pushing the door to the building open. He had already made sure there was no greeting staff before entering, so he just pushed open the door to the stairwell, the address coming naturally back up to the surface of his mind. Room 205, so the second floor. His eyes flicked across the second floor plaque and he pushed the door open, immediately noticing the spread apart number plates. Large apartments. He walked down the hall to the one marked 205, and knocked on it, shoving his hands in his pockets. After a few moments, the door opened to a surprised looking girl.

“Are you Sofia?” He asked, and she nodded sheepishly, her eyes traveling to the holstered weapon on his leg. “Good. I’m Choi Seungcheol, your brother’s ‘representative’ for now” he introduced himself, holding out his hand, and she cautiously shook it. 

“Does he… is he here?” She asked, hope flickering in her expression. Seungcheol narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Not at the moment, he’s a bit distraught over the phone call he received from your mother.” Seungcheol responded, and her face fell. “Listen, I came here for him. To clear the air, and make it all okay, so that you two could see each other again” he added, and she quirked her eyebrows. 

“Clear the air? How so?” She asked, and he ran a hand through his hair.

“Let you know who he’s become, who he runs with, what he does on a daily basis-“

“What he does? Holy shit, is he a drug dealer now?” She panicked, and he snorted.

“A drug dealer? No. Not at all.” He reassured her, and she visibly relaxed.

“Are you sure? Or is it like Breaking Bad, like he cooks meth in an RV out in the middle of the desert-“

“Listen, Sofia, He is not a chemist, we do not have access to red phosphate or boiling beakers, and we live in the middle of a fucking city.” Seungcheol inclined his head, and she shuddered.

“You’re right- sorry. Just, what does he do?” Her voice grew a bit softer, and Seungcheol tried to offer a reassuring smile.

“Nothing too bad on the terms of who he is now. Territorial stuff, mostly. Gang fights, dangerous riding, the normal stuff.” He sighed, and she nodded.

“Is he… is he happy, at least?” 

“Yeah, he really is. He’s got someone now, and we take good care of him.”

“He… has someone…? So you have girls in your gang too?” She questioned, and Seungcheol rolled his eyes.

“Hon, your brother is as gay as they come. He has a guy named Seungkwan, who really takes care of him, even when he gets all beat up.”

“Gets all beat up? What the fuck?”

“We’re a gang, sweetie, shit’s bound to happen one time or another.” He mumbled, and she tensed up a bit. “He’s fine now, though. Only scars will ever remain” 

“As long as he’s okay”

-=+=-


	2. Brave

Jeonghan finished up his book just as his phone rang, and he picked it up without hesitation.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Jeonghan, bOY do I have a story for you” Jisoo’s familiar voice came from the other end of the phone. “So it turns out my family flew here because they found a nice house nearby, so it turns out I’m not going to LA after all. They also would like to meet you, specifically my dad, because I may or may not have told him you liked action movies, and now he wants to take the three of us to a shooting range?” 

Jeonghan fell silent, processing what had just come into his brain.

“Jisoo, I’ve never held a gun in my entire life. I refuse to embarrass myself in front of your father. There’s noooo way I’m doing that!” He hissed, standing up and grabbing his computer to look up where he could get shooting lessons on short notice. 

“Just ask your leather-clad boyfriend and his gang for help! He’s really persistent, Hannie” 

Jeonghan mumbled under his breath about how Seungcheol definitely wasn’t his boyfriend, and set his laptop back down. Maybe he could help.

“I’m gonna figure something out, Soo, I swear. When is this so-called outing?”

“Saturday”

“Soo. It’s Thursday.” Jeonghan furrowed his eyebrows, although Jisoo couldn’t see.

“‘Coming, mom!’” Jisoo called, clearly speaking to someone on the background. “Bye!” He spoke into the phone this time, and then hung up. Jeonghan promptly dialed Seungcheol, and the phone rang four times, almost going to voicemail, before the gang leader finally answered.

“What is it?” He asked, sounding none too sweet.

“Hey, Cheol, So this is an odd request, but I need to learn how to shoot by Saturday, and you’re the only person I know that can shoot” he explained quickly, and heard a low chuckle from the other man.

“Sure, Hannie. I’ll teach you how to shoot. What do you want to learn?”

“What do you mean? I want to learn how to shoot.” He sounded confused, even to himself, and earned another laugh.

“Big guns or little guns?” He rephrased, using a I’m-talking-to-a-toddler voice.

“I don’t care, whatever’s easier” he groaned, and heard the faint rustling of bedsheets. “Did I wake you up? Sorry”

“It’s fine, I just got home anyways” He sighed. “I was talking to Hansol’s sister” his voice dropped to be barely audible, so Jeonghan supposed It was a sensitive topic. “So, when are you free?” Seungcheol asked, and Jeonghan could now hear the exhaustion laced into his voice.

“How about you sleep, and we meet somewhere tomorrow?” He suggested.

“If you want, sure. I’ll text you the address of the place I taught Minghao to shoot, so it’s trustworthy” 

“I trust your gun judgement above all else” Jeonghan joked, and could have sworn he heard Seungcheol’s eyes roll. 

“Thanks, I guess. Does 6:00 sound good? Don’t you have work?” Seungcheol questioned.

“I work from home, I write articles and go over final thesis papers, things of the sort. I have my own schedule, and it tends to be nocturnal.”

“I see. Have fun with that then.”

He hung up, and Jeonghan could imagine him falling back into bed, wrapped up in his sweatshirt. 

He was oh so screwed, in more ways than one. And if Seungcheol showed up in that sweatshirt with messy hair, that would add another layer.

-=+=-

Seungcheol had multiple weapons laying out on his bed, and he was standing there wondering which ones to take. Can’t have too much recoil, so no semi-autos. If he wanted to learn how to use rifles, he wouldn’t start with a shotgun, so that meant that he had to take his own personal rifle and hope it didn’t spontaneously combust if used incorrectly (or that he wouldn’t spontaneously combust). Finally, he decided on his rifle, two pistols, and an old glock he found in the bottom of his closet, just for shits and giggles. He carefully made sure they were all unloaded, safety on, and slid the smaller guns into cloth cases, then into his backpack. He realized that he had spent the last day waiting for this, because he had nothing better to do. He sent off a quick “do you want me to pick you up?” Text to Jeonghan, and slid the bag over his shoulder. Almost immediately he responded with “sure” and Seungcheol responded with “wear something warm” before sliding his phone into his jacket pocket. 

“Who the fuck are you going to kill?” Mingyu asked when he walked out his room, his rifle hanging off one shoulder and his bag off the other.

“Tin cans and targets” he responded, and Mingyu made an amused noise.

“Good luck with that, boss” he smiled, and Wonwoo opened his eyes from his position lying across Mingyu’s lap, and smacked his chest.

“Shut up, you big puppy” he mumbled miserably, closing his eyes again, and Mingyu gently brushed his hair out of his face.

“So why does he want to learn to shoot?” Mingyu asked, and Seungcheol sighed.

“No clue, but I’ve got nothing to do, so I figured I could help out.” He didn’t even question how Mingyu knew- the kid just knew things. 

“Do me a favor, Mingyu. Make sure nobody dies while I’m gone?” He asked, and Mingyu nodded. He smiled and pushed the door open, walking down the stairs and emerging in the garage floor. He made his way over to his bike, which was parked along the wall, and rolled it out to the center of the room, grabbing an extra pair of riding gloves and sliding his helmet on. He turned the ignition once again and rode out, turning onto the same street and closing the garage.

The bike pulled up in front of Jeonghan’s apartment building, and he was about to text “here” when the doors opened and Jeonghan walked out. He was wearing tight black jeans and a white shirt, but Seungcheol’s leather jacket was hanging off of his shoulders, fitting almost perfectly despite their size difference. He slid his helmet off and handed it to Jeonghan, who stared at it quizzically. 

“You put it on” he pointed out, and Jeonghan narrowed his eyes. 

“No duh” Jeonghan laughed, and stepped off of the curb, standing right next to him. He pulled the riding gloves out of his pocket and handed them to Jeonghan, who awkwardly pulled himself onto the bike. Seungcheol shifted forward to give him more room, and Jeonghan gladly took it, pressing his chest up against Seungcheol’s back and pulling the helmet on.

“You’re not gonna wear one?” He asked, his voice muffled by the helmet.

“Can’t carry two, Hannie” he pointed out, and started the motor. Jeonghan’s arm immediately circled his waist as he started driving, and he tried to ignore it, turning onto a road that would lead them out of the city.

The sun was dipping low on the horizon when Seungcheol parked his bike, helping Jeonghan off and opening the seat to grab his rifle and bag. Jeonghan pulled his jacket closer and looked warily at the gun in Seungcheol’s hands. The smaller man looked Jeonghan in the eyes and pulled a pistol out of his bag, flipping it around in his hand and holding the handle out to Jeonghan, who hesitantly took it.

“First, you gotta know how a gun works”

Seungcheol went through a mini-lesson, pointing out the different parts of the weapon and showing him how they worked, even going so far as disassembling it to show him the inner workings. When he finally believed that Jeonghan had a basic understanding, he stood up and offered a hand.

“Let’s get to the good stuff, then” he smiled sheepishly, and Jeonghan allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, hesitantly picking the gun up from the ground. Seungcheol chose his rifle and an almost identical pistol, walking towards a small cluster of trees. As they approached, Jeonghan noticed that there were a few targets lined up along the tree line. 

“I’m supposed to shoot at those?” He asked, sliding a hand inside of his jacket to keep it warm. Seungcheol nodded and stopped, looking at the targets. They were a decent amount away, but it seemed manageable.

“These are range standards, even range sized targets. This is what you’ll be shooting at on a normal day.” He explained, having been made aware of Jeonghan’s predicament. 

Jeonghan stood where Seungcheol told him to, with Seungcheol standing right next to him.

“Alright, stand square, raise the weapon with one hand, put the other right here” Seungcheol explained, showing him with his own weapon and waiting for Jeonghan to copy.

“Yours isn’t loaded, so we’re just going through the motions. Safety off, hammer back, finger off the trigger. Aim- no this isn’t a movie, don’t close your eye” he sighed, and Jeonghan looked over, surprised. “That lowers your depth perception” he explained, and Jeonghan nodded.

“Okay, So when you’re ready, you pull the trigger. It’ll buck back a bit, but not too much, so don’t be startled. These are good weapons, so it won’t make a lot of noise, but at the range you’ll get headphones and goggles. Make sure those are on right. You think you can do it?” 

Jeonghan nodded, and did as he was told, pulling the trigger to a mere click. He was expecting an explosion, even if it wasn’t loaded.

“Good job” Seungcheol mumbled, gently taking the weapon and sliding a clip in, pulling the rail so it loaded itself and handing it back to Jeonghan. “Now with actual bullets.”

Jeonghan studied the loaded weapon in his hands, raising it to the proper firing position. Hesitantly he squeezed the trigger, yelping at the sound. He almost dropped it, but then looked up at the target, the clean sheet that had been placed over it with a hole in the outermost circle.

“I hit it!” He cheered, and threw his arms around Seungcheol’s neck.

“Woah, woah, don’t flail a loaded weapon around, ese” he laughed, but pat Jeonghan on the back regardless.

“Was that Spanish?” He asked, pulling back for a second so he could look at Seungcheol’s face.

“Yeah, sorry- it just slipped” He mumbled, a light blush decorating his cheeks.

“It sounds nice, Cheol. Natural” Jeonghan gave him a cheeky grin, and Seungcheol took a step back. 

“Want to see something cool?” He asked, and Jeonghan nodded. 

Seungcheol looked back at the target and lifted the pis with one hand, pulling back the hammer and squeezing the trigger. A hole appeared near the center of the target, and Jeonghan stared at it, open-mouthed. 

“How the fuck-“

“Hey, I’m magic.” Seungcheol smirked, and turned the safety on. “Not really, I just shoot a lot of guys” he sighed, taking another step back.

Jeonghan kept shooting until he was able to hit the target consistently, and then called it a day after he was hardly able to see without the assistance of Seungcheol’s flashlight. They both somehow found their way back to the motorcycle, and Seungcheol flipped on the headlights, squinting at the sudden glare.

“My god what time is it?” Jeonghan asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “It’s literally 3 in the morning, we’ve been out here for hours” he laughed, grabbing the helmet off of the motorcycle seat. 

“And it’s an hour ride back to your place, then 15 minutes back to mine” Seungcheol pointed out, swinging a leg over the seat and gesturing for Jeonghan to do the same.

“We could always just stay at my place” Jeonghan suggested as he pulled himself onto the bike, purposefully getting as close to Seungcheol as he could. The gang leader tensed up a bit, and Jeonghan smiled to himself as he put the helmet on and hooked his fingers through Seungcheol’s belt loops instead of around his waist. The tires started rolling, and Seungcheol pulled out onto the road, speeding up so he could rocket down the old streets. 

As estimated, it took them an hour until Jeonghan’s apartment was stationary beside the vehicle, and Jeonghan had given the helmet back to Seungcheol, along with the riding gloves.

“You can.. come inside if you want to” Jeonghan rubbed the back of his neck, and Seungcheol shrugged.

“Guarantee you don’t want a deadbeat around for too long” he sighed, and Jeonghan immediately shook his head.

“No, no, no. I’d love to have you stay over until morning- you’re welcome anytime” he reassured, and Seungcheol shook his head. Jeonghan made a small ‘humph’ and grabbed Seungcheol’s arm, dragging him off of the bike and giving him just enough time to shut it off and grab his stuff before proceeding to drag him inside and up three flights of stairs. He unlocked the door to his apartment and held it open for Seungcheol, who, knowing he had no other choice, stepped inside.

“Put your stuff on the kitchen table” Jeonghan instructed, and Seungcheol complied after sliding his shoes off and leaving them on the small rack near the door, wandering back into the main room in his T-shirt and jeans. The carpet felt soft beneath his feet, soft moonlight shining in from the window. Jeonghan had his closet door open, and pulled out a large, baggy shirt, handing it to Seungcheol along with a pair of shorts.

“Bathroom is right down the hall” he smiled, and Seungcheol nodded, walking in the indicated direction. He didn’t see the point in changing now, it was late enough already. But, he felt like being a good guest. He closed the door with his foot and pulled his shirt off, looking up in the mirror at his bare torso. Small scars decorated his skin, all of them with stories behind them. He pulled the new shirt over his head, the sleeves hanging just past his fingers. The name across the front read ‘Seoul National University’. He recognized it as a sport-oriented shirt, with a number on the sleeve and the school logo underneath the name. So Jeonghan played a sport in his university time, huh? Seungcheol kicked his jeans aside and pulled the mid-thigh length shorts on. The rim of the shirt nearly covered them, but he didn’t really mind. They were soft anyways. He walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, putting his clothes under his bag. Then, he made his way back into the main room, where Jeonghan was lounging on the couch with a laptop propped on his chest.

“And here I thought you’d already be asleep” Seungcheol shook his head, although there was still a smile on his face.

-

Jeonghan looked up, about to say something, and froze, his eyes lingering on Seungcheol. The way his shirt hung off of Seungcheol’s frame was flawless, highlighting the fact that he was muscular, but still making him look small and innocent with the overly-baggy sleeves. As his eyes travelled downward, he realized just how small those shorts were. On a side note, Seungcheol’s thighs were very muscular. He closed his laptop and sat up, looking to his other side and out the window.

“Wasn’t all too tired” he responded, after realizing that he had gone silent. Seungcheol sat down on the carpet, foldings his legs under him like a child. Jeonghan shifted and got on the floor too, scooching a little closer so their knees bumped together.

“Did you play any sports? This is a sport shirt” he looked down, pulling at the light blue cloth. 

“Yeah, I played lacrosse while I studied- I originally came to university to play, but got caught up in all my psych classes” he explained, and Seungcheol nodded along.

“Tell be a bit about yourself, you know, since I’ve opened up my soul to you” Seungcheol requested, flicking his head a bit to get hair out of his eyes. Jeonghan noticed he didn’t have his trademark hair gel in, and the black locks looked surprisingly soft.

“Ah, well I’m not that interesting. I’m an only child, grew up here in Seoul, went to high school, then to college, and ended up here.” He sighed and pushed his hair back, working his hands together in his lap afterwards. Seungcheol nodded again, acknowledging that he didn’t really have too many interesting stories to tell at the moment. Jeonghan hoped that, in time, Seungcheol would be interested enough to learn even the small stories. 

Seungcheol covered his hands with his sleeves and whipped the extra cloth around a bit, laughing childishly and accidentally smacking Jeonghan in the face.

“Oh! Oh god- I’m sorry” he blurted, reaching out and touching Jeonghan’s cheek, where the cloth had smacked. Jeonghan smiled, laughing as well, and his fingers gently closed around Seungcheol’s elbow as he leaned forward to get more air. Both of their laughing bouts died down, although Seungcheol didn’t move his hand, so in turn, neither did Jeonghan. Jeonghan looked up at Seungcheol, who quickly moved his hand away and looked down at his legs. Jeonghan put his fingers under Seungcheol’s chin and tipped it upwards, subconsciously shifting forward.

“Jeonghan, I don’t think-“

“Hm?” The noise came from the base of Jeonghan’s throat, and Seungcheol shuddered.

“This ain’t a good idea” he finished, his voice small and weak.

“How come?” Jeonghan purred, his hand shifting to the side of Seungcheol’s neck. A breathy whine escaped the older’s mouth, and he squeezed his eyes closed. 

“It’s not good for you-“ he managed to get out before Jeonghan cut him off by pressing his finger to Seungcheol’s lips.

“I think I can determine what’s good for me, Cheolie~” Jeonghan taunted, moving a few inches closer. Seungcheol reached out and put his hands on Jeonghan’s chest, attempting to push him away.

“Just- h-hear me out, okay?” Seungcheol pleaded, and Jeonghan sat up straight, one hand still placed gently on the older’s knee. Seungcheol took this as an opportunity to speak, and immediately launched into his own lecture.

“I’m not good for- for anyone, really. I’m a borderline idiot, I don’t have a good education, I’ve killed people, I’ve stolen, my existence is illegal, for fuck’s sake. My record is anything but clean and if I have to pull up my mug shots I will to convince you I am the scum of the earth. Now please just- let me walk out of here and forget you ever met me. For your own sake.” He gently pushed Jeonghan’s hand off of his knee.

“Now” Jeonghan replied, looking completely unfazed. “Let me show to you that I don’t care” his blank expression turned into a small smile. “After all, I do like a bit of danger” he chuckled, and slid his hand up to half cover Seungcheol’s shorts, the other moving to the gang leader’s waist. Seungcheol bit his lower lip, and Jeonghan blinked.

“If you want, though, I’ll stop” he added on, not wanting to feel like he was being way too invasive.

“Just- understand the risks, please. And that whatever the fuck this is, should probably only be a one time thing” he hissed, and Jeonghan nodded.

“I guess I’ll have to make this ‘one time’ least for a couple years then, hm?” He snorted, and Seungcheol’s eyes widened. 

“I uh- phrased that wrong” he stumbled, and Jeonghan cut him off with a quick kiss.

“I know, hon, I was making a joke. Maybe I’ll teach you about ‘em sometime” he cooed, and kissed Seungcheol again. It was soft, close-mouthed, and pleasant, because that’s what he assumed Seungcheol wanted. After a few long seconds, Seungcheol kissed him back, hooking his strong arms around Jeonghan’s neck and drawing him closer.

‘So’ Jeonghan thought. ‘He likes contact. I can deal with contact’

He smiled into the kiss and ran his tongue along Seungcheol’s bottom lip, who reacted after a second and opened his mouth slightly. Jeonghan pulled up the front of his shirt and slid his hands beneath it, feeling the muscle underneath his fingertips. 

Jeonghan found it particularly odd that Seungcheol was very clearly stronger and manlier than he was, but still refused to take control. Until he realized that Seungcheol was probably very shy about this kind of stuff, based on the way he had been acting before. He broke the kiss, gasping a bit, and pulled Seungcheol back onto the couch, settling into the older’s lap.

“Jeonghan-“

“I don’t care what the consequences are, Cheol. As of right now, I only care about you.”

-=+=-

“I hope that skinny bitch treats him right” Jihoon growled, very viciously stabbing the top of his pencil into the paper in front of him. Mingyu hummed in agreement, sipping a glass of either apple juice or alcohol, both were entirely plausible. 

“We might have another name on our hit list soon” he sighed, finally setting the glass down with a small ‘thump’. Jihoon nodded, looking like he was contemplating the best way to get rid of a body. 

“If I got a polyethylene container and hydrofluoric acid it would be a messy but efficient clean up job” He mumbled, and Mingyu laughed.

“Don’t go all scientist on us yet, there’s no reason to believe that this Jeonghan guy has done anything wrong yet.” He sighed, and Jihoon’s murderous glare shifted to him.

“Yet” he spat, and Mingyu cringed. 

“I don’t know, the guy just gives me a weird feeling. Like he’s using Cheol. Don’t tell me you’re completely fine about the situation, because I know you’re not. You’re worried about him too, right? Or am I finally going crazy?”

“Maybe all those chemicals are catching up to you” Mingyu taunted, and wondered if he would end up being set on fire in his sleep.

“Okay, just because I worked in chemistry doesn’t mean I was automatically around dangerous chemicals, okay?”

“But the thing is, you were” Mingyu pursed his lips, and Jihoon strengthened his glare.

“Fair enough” he gave in, and Mingyu smiled at his own success. 

Somewhere in the house, a door opened, and Soonyoung shuffled into the kitchen a few minutes later, instantly grabbing the full coffee pot and pouring himself a mug, adding an obscene amount of sugar.

“Where is e’ryone?” He questioned groggily, and Jihoon furrowed his eyebrows, furiously scribbling something down. Mingyu took that as an indication that he should reply.

“Seungkwan and Seokmin went to the grocery, Hansol and Wonwoo are still asleep, Junhui and Chan are in the garage, Minghao’s making rounds, and Seungcheol is still out” he rattled off, his eyes fixed on the opposite wall. 

“With that Jeonghan dude? He seems sketchy” Soonyoung scrunched up his nose, and his eyes got a bit smaller.

“Dude, you shoot people for a living, you’re sketchy.” Jihoon offered, and Soonyoung scoffed.

“Says the sharpshooter” he retorted, and Jihoon looked up from his paper.

“Okay, Okay. Fine, I give. He seems weird. That any better?”

Jihoon nodded his approval, and Soonyoung rolled his shoulders before taking another sip.

“Just sayin’ If Cheol comes home upset, I won’t hesitate to hunt that fucker down. Nobody messes with our leader and gets away with it” he sighed, and Jihoon looked pointedly up at Mingyu with an I told you so face. It was Mingyu’s turn to narrow his eyes, although the expression didn’t last long when the front door opened. Soonyoung poked his head into the main room.

“Hey, boss” he greeted, and the other two peeled up immediately as Seungcheol walked into the room.

“Oooh~ same clothes, how was it?” Mingyu asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

“We didn’t have sex, if that’s what you’re implying. I do have boundaries, unlike you” he responded, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. 

“Hey! Just because Wonwoo and I-“

“Nope, shut up, don’t wanna hear it” Jihoon smacked his pencil down, and Mingyu’s mouth shut instantly, a faint blush decorating his cheeks.

Soonyoung pulled the collar of his jacket down slightly and gasped.

“You liar!” He pressed his palm flat against his chest like he was in actual astonishment. “No, but seriously, how’d it go” his voice dropped back down to normal, the contrast between the two tones almost amusing.

“He’s really nice, nothing much else to say. I, uh, am not opposed to the idea of seeing him again, if that tells you something” he described, not seeming too eager to elaborate any further. The trio nodded in understanding, their full attention on him.

“So I don’t need to text Seungkwan to get a relatively body-sized polyethylene container?” Jihoon asked, sounding a bit hopeful.

“No, Jihoon, you are not dissolving any bodies in acid, no matter how much you beg” the leader scolded, and Jihoon crossed his arms over his chest like a child, as if they weren’t just talking about methods of body decomposition. 

“So you think you’ll keep him around?” Mingyu managed to slide into the conversation a bit more, and Seungcheol shrugged.

“Yeah. He probably won’t want to stay after he figures out just how fucked in the head we all are.” He snorted, and a small chorus of agreement bounced between the other members of his current company. 

“At least we can all agree on the fact that we’re batshit crazy” Soonyoung grinned before finishing off his mug of coffee, leaving the room to stick it in the dishwasher. 

“I think he might be a bit crazy too. He asked me a bunch of weird ‘get to know you questions’” Seungcheol sighed, and Jihoon cocked an eyebrow.

“Like what?”

“Like what my favorite quote was. I told him I didn’t have one, so he told me his. And then asked me what quote I lived by”

“What was his… y’know… ‘favorite quote’” Mingyu, coincidentally, used air quotes.

“It was something about stars and being afraid of the dark.”

“”I have loved the stars too fondly to be afraid of the night”?” Jihoon asked, and Seungcheol nodded, not even wondering how he knew that.

“And what was the one you lived by?” Soonyoung inquired, having entered the room again a while ago.

“We’re made of more than skin and bone”

-=+=-

“Lee Seokmin if you don’t pick a flavor of potato chip right fucking now-“

“Fine, fine! Calm down!” He yelped, looking mildly terrified. Seungkwan narrowed his eyes and looked down at the grocery list in his hands.

“That’s everything, along with all of the unnecessary shit you always buy. Let’s get out of here” he confirmed, leaning on the handle of the shopping cart and steering it towards the checkout. Seokmin followed behind, and Seungkwan realized how they both probably looked like university students. He smiled fondly at the idea of furthering his education, but knew it was quite beyond his reach at this point. Plus, all the topics that interested him wouldn’t help the group at all. Business or criminal psych would do wonders, but definitely not physics. 

He pulled the cash he had grouchy out of his pocket and counted out the right amount, handing it to the checkout lady after everything was rung up, and then pushed the cart out into the parking lot, heading towards where Seungcheol’s car was parked. It had the biggest trunk, so he always took it shopping. As he approached the car, he realized that something was wrong. The tires seemed deflated. He unlocked the car and popped the trunk, loading the groceries and closing it so he could inspect the tires further. 

“Fucking hell” he hissed, and Seokmin seemed to have a similar mindset, staring at the clean slice in the rubber.

“Who would slash our fucking tires?” He asked angrily, and Seokmin shrugged. 

“Knife isn’t too sharp, probably a switchblade that hasn’t been kept well. The slashes are short, could be patched up if gotten to in time. It looks more like they were stabbed than slashed. An amateur, probably a kid just looking for trouble. The last one still has air so they can’t have gotten any farther than the edge of the lot. If I’m right though, they’ll be lurking around to see our reactions.” He rattled off, and Seungkwan opened the driver’s door, opening the glove box and grabbing the pistol out of it.

“I’m show that little shit what he’s fucking with” he slammed the door, flicking the safety off. 

“Seungkwan, calm down. Junhui can bring the snow tires, it’s close to winter anyways. It’s not a big deal, and we don’t need the headache of shooting at a kid in the market parking lot.” Seokmin quickly tried to get Seungkwan to put down the gun, and managed to take it from him, putting the safety back on and returning the weapon to its rightful spot in the car. When he closed the door, Seungkwan was already on the phone with Junhui, and ended the call shortly after Seokmin started paying attention.

“He’ll be here in 15, we’ve just gotta hang around” he sighed, leaning against the car door. Seokmin joined him and looked down at his phone, smiling at something.

“What is it?” Seungkwan asked, and Seokmin showed him what was on the screen. His screensaver was a picture of Soonyoung with a glow stick tucked behind his ear.

“When did you take that?” 

“A couple days ago, when you guys were asleep. We found some glow sticks in our room and decided to mess around with them. My hands probably still glow” he mumbled, looking like a lovestruck idiot. They had long since changed around the rooms so all of the couples were together, which gave Seungcheol his own room, since Chan wanted to share with Jihoon in the larger one. 

What seemed like an agonizing time later, Junhui pulled up in his bulletproof BMW X5, the metal shining like it was fresh off the production line. Junhui himself, however, had grease smudged across his cheek, and his hair was pulled back by some sort of headband. He waved at them and pulled the tires out of his trunk, lying them near the car.

“Have fun guys” he joked, and Seungkwan crosses his arms.

“Very funny, Junhui.” He sneered, and Jun laughed at himself. Seungkwan wondered if he actually thought he was funny.

-=+=-

Jeonghan flipped the pistol Seungcheol had left him over in his hands, his bare feet tapping against the tile floor. He felt both exhausted and wide awake at the same time. He wanted to run a marathon, but his body felt like it could collapse. When he had woken up this morning, lying on the carpet floor with Seungcheol’s arms wrapped around him, it had felt right. Everything was still, and slow, and oh-so graceful. That was the precise moment Jeonghan had realized he was a hopeless romantic searching for a fairy tale ending, and Choi Seungcheol was his prince. His mind wandered to their conversation last night, how Seungcheol had so easily degraded himself like that. As he picked up his phone to call Jisoo about plans for today, he decided that somehow he was going to make Seungcheol love both himself and everything he has become.

“Hey, Jisoo. What time is the thing?” He asked when his best friend picked up.

“Uh. In like, an hour or so? I can pick you up if you want. My dad said he’d bring enough money that we could both rent guns for like 2 hours.”

“Actually, Soo. I’ve got my own” he smiled, staring at the clean metal and the extra clips Seungcheol had set down on the kitchen table before he walked out. 

“Holy shit- did you hook up with Cheol?” He asked, sounding a bit breathy.

“Not exactly, it was more an ‘I’m available and interested, make what you please of that’” he attempted to explain, and heard the faint sound of what he believed was Jisoo screaming into a pillow.

“Oh my god, Jeonghan! You better get yourself that leathery piece of ass or I’ll never forgive you!” He hissed, obviously trying to keep his voice down.

“Are you scared your pure Christian mother will hear you using the lord’s name in vain?” Jeonghan accused, and Jisoo scoffed.

“She has the mouth of a sailor, I think not” he said, an underlying sarcastic tone bleeding through the phone.

“See you in an hour, dork” Jeonghan smiled as he ended the call, and walked over to his closet to get changed.

-

He found himself nervously tapping his finger on his knee as Jisoo sang along to whatever was on the radio. He wanted to impress Jisoo’s dad, sure, but he was more nervous to mess up for the sake of messing up. If he made himself look bad, then he’d eventually have to get better just to prove to himself that he could. And that would mean more things to add to his schedule. The upside is, maybe he could drag Seungcheol along again. He had a sneaking suspicion if they went back out to the range he’d be focused on a lot more than shooting, though. The car stopped, and Jeonghan pushed the door open, stepping out and stretching his arms. Jisoo’s father- he had yet to learn his name, and doubted he ever would- grabbed a bag from the trunk that contained multiple weapons, including Jeonghan’s. He took a moment to reflect upon how he had found himself in this situation, and visibly deflated. Jisoo put a hand on his back and steered him towards the front door, glancing over at him as they walked.

“Tired?” He asked suggestively, and Jeonghan smacked his shoulder, sending him a glare as they entered the building, immediately greeted by the sound of muffled gunfire.

“Must be some pretty fucking soundproof walls” Jeonghan mumbled, and Jisoo smirked. Mr. Hong talked to some guy behind the register, and was leading them into a different room soon enough. It was isolated from the rest of the building, and strangely quiet. He gave them both glasses and headphones, which they put on, not questioning his knowledge. Jeonghan took his pistol from the bag and looked at Mr. Hong, who nodded at him. He loaded one of the clips and went through the steps in his head, the memories of Seungcheol teaching him exactly what to do. Safety off, hammer back, aim… 

Fire.

He fired three shots, the outline of the body on the target with three new holes within it, one to the shoulder, one to the head, one to the chest. He turned the safety back on, looking over at Jisoo, who was staring at him wide-eyed.

“Woah” He exhaled, and Mr. Hong smiled at him with a bit of a fatherly glimmer in his eyes.

“You should join the police force” he offered when Jeonghan slid the headphones off, and he flushed a bit.

“Oh, I don’t think I’d be cut out for that, sir. After my mandatory two years I took a while back” he smiled hesitantly, and Mr. Hong nodded. Jisoo scrunched up his nose and smiled at him, obviously pleased by how his father was taking to his friend.

It continued for two hours, taking turns shooting and then talking in between. Jeonghan learned some very amusing stories about Jisoo’s childhood, which the youngest had adamantly denied. By the time they walked out, they were all chatting and laughing happily, heading out to the car. Jeonghan slid into the back seat, a smile gracing his expression. It always felt good to make new friends.

-=+=-

Jisoo was straddling the man’s thighs, performing chest compressions, sweat dripping off of his brow. 

“I need some help over here?” He hissed, his wrists starting to cramp up. 

“Sir, sir we have an AED!” One of the nurses called, and he hopped off of the gurney, letting them have room.

“Clear!” Someone called as he peeled his gloves off and threw them away, quickly making his way back to the emergency entrance. 

“No rest for the weary, huh?” He mumbled to himself as he accepted his partner’s hand up into the ambulance, starting to clean up what had been forced aside. Today was a busy day, for whatever reason, which gave way to no lunch or break, and the desperate need to start crying. He forced that down and checked his watch.

“Who the fuck falls out of a tree at 6:15 in the morning because they went into cardiac arrest?” He sighed, and Kihyun laughed.

“That guy, apparently. You’ve got training at 7, right?” He asked, and Jisoo nodded, running a hand through his hair. 

“My shift ended two hours ago, but I can stick around until the air clears” He pursed his lips, and Kihyun rolled his eyes.

“Go get some sleep, you determined devil” Kihyun chided, almost pushing Jisoo out of the back of the ambulance. “Or you’ll be in the hospital in a different sense” 

“Fine, fine” Jisoo grumbled, swinging himself out of the back of the vehicle and stumbling when his feet hit the floor. The hallway was clear now, so he made his way to the locker room without much resistance. He stripped off his shirt and pulled on a pale purple sweater, grabbing his white jacket and sliding it over his shoulders. He fixed his collar and walked out of the room, heading for the front desk. At this point, there was no sleeping for him. The receptionist nodded as he leaned against the counter, giving her a small smile before putting his head in his hands. 

“Tired, huh?” She asked, and he managed to nod.

“I had a shift until 4 but it went way later” he yawned, and rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up. This hadn’t been the first time, nor would it be the last that he had a sleepless night. He stood up straight and fixed his hair, blinking rapidly. 

“Good morning, Jisoo” he heard from down the hallway, and looked over to lock eyes with Dr. Karen Stahl. She smiled and gestured him over. He walked down the hallway until he was standing beside her. 

“So today, we’ve got a coronary artery bypass at 11, and rounds for the rest of it” she smiled, patting his shoulder, and he nodded patiently. 

“Yes, ma’am” he returned the smile, and she walked off towards the patient’s room, Jisoo following behind her. 

-

“Jisoo I have to go- you need to handle this” Dr. Stahl commanded, and he blinked, a bit taken aback, but nodded and looked down at the table. She left the room in a hurry, and he picked up where she had left off, working out of memory. He knew what he had to do, and he knew how to do it. In turn, his hands were steady, his head was clear, and his breathing was even. The emergency call had come only a bit after they had begun, so he was left with most of the procedure yet to do. Quietly, he mumbled to himself, speaking the steps to assure himself he was doing them correctly. 

Time passed steadily, an internal clock clicking methodically in his head. He was so close to done, and he had performed everything as perfectly as he possibly could. He exhaled, and his eyes traveled across what his hands were doing. He pursed his lips beneath the mask and finished up, preparing to close up the patient after he made sure everything was in proper working condition.

Jisoo slumped against the wall, wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve, wetting his lips and closing his eyes. Despite how calm he had been through the duration of the surgery, this was the most tired he had ever felt. His hands were shaking, his mind could hardly process a thought without shutting down completely, and there was still sweat rolling down his forehead. He pushed himself up and looked at the schedule, identifying Dr. Stahl’s next task and walking off to do it for her.

-=+=-

Jihoon slammed his hand into the keys of the piano, groaning and scribbling out the last like he had written down. Recently, he had taken to composing again, like he had done in high school. He was debating getting himself a keyboard, but for now the library had to do. He played another chord gently, singing the words he had written down to himself.

“So what I mean is, I want to know all of you. I’ll sing you, u hoo-“ he stopped at that note and furrowed his eyebrows, hitting one note higher and matching his voice, scribbling that down on the sheet of paper and tapping his pen against the wood. He put it down and played through what he had written down so far, hitting the last note anf letting it ring out. He had the piano down, but he needed to work on the lyrics. The familiar twist of hunger started in his stomach, and he yawned, standing up and gathering his papers. He walked out of the library and spotted one of the infinite amount of Starbucks on the street corner, and made sure his wallet was tucked into his pocket, stepping inside to find the line completely gone. He walked up to the counter and ordered a coffee, handing the barista a 10 and getting his change back. He walked over to one of the seats near where he would pick his drink up after it was done and slid into the chair. He pushed his hair back and tapped on the table with the rhythm of the song, trying to come up with the next verse in his head. He barely noticed when someone slid into the seat across from him. 

“Hey, There”

He looked up, panic rising in his throat, but calmed down when he noticed the man across from him blinked at his expression.

“Hi” he mumbled, grabbing his papers out of his coat and scribbling down something that came to mind.

“I’m Chanyeol” he introduced, and Jihoon quirked an eyebrow.

“Park Chanyeol? One of Junmyeon’s boys?” He asked, and Chanyeol’s lips parted.

“Uh, Yeah… you’re not a cop, right?” He whispered, leaning closer.

“Nope. Just have street smarts.” He thought for a second and then waved the papers around. “I’m a composer” he added, and Chanyeol nodded.

“Good, Good.” He ran a hand through his hair, and Jihoon smiled slightly.

“So, why’d you come over here, Mr. Marksman” He quirked an eyebrow, and Chanyeol blinked again.

“Uh- you seemed nice? And kind of lonely… sorry if I disrupted you-“

“I’m not a composer” Jihoon interrupted, squinting. “The name’s Woozi” he smiled shyly, and Chanyeol’s mouth dropped open

“You’re Woozi? Oh my god, you’re a legend” He exhaled, his eyes studying Jihoon’s face. The barista called his name, and he smirked, standing up to get his drink and walking out the door without another word.

Legend. It stuck well in his head.

-=+=-

Jeonghan hit the enter key on his laptop, staring at the blinking cursor of doom. He needed one more paragraph- just one- and he’d be able to lay down and rest for the duration of the week. With that in mind, he began typing away, attempting to do his best work. 

2 hours and 3 copies later, Jeonghan finally closed the lid of his laptop, sinking further into the couch and setting the device on the side table. He picked up hair phone and squinted at the screen, reaching behind him to grab his glasses and sliding them on his face. The circular lenses immediately focused the text, and he read it quickly, typing Jisoo and quick reply, knowing he would still be in work right now. Surprisingly, his phone started ringing, Jisoo’s name appearing on the top. He clicked answer and raised the device to his ear. 

“Jisoo, don’t you have work?” He asked, and a low sigh came from the other line.

“I took a break. Listen, Jeonghan. Something big just happened” he sounded almost excited, but borderline terrified. 

“What is it, Jisoo?” He asked, his eyebrows creasing.

“I got promoted. I’m a surgeon now” his voice was breathy, but delighted.

“What? Oh my god! That’s- that’s great!” Jeonghan say bolt upright, his glasses almost sliding off of his face from the sudden movement.

“Yeah- Dr. Stahl had an emergency call and I had to perform the coronary artery bypass surgery, and apparently the big boss heard and reviewed the camera footage, and I did really well. He wants me on cardiothoracic staff” he laughed, and Jeonghan cheered.

“I’m so proud of you, Jisoo. You’ve done so well” he grinned, and heard discussion from the other line.

“I gotta go, Hannie. Thanks.” He said farewell, and hung up. Jeonghan stared at his ceiling, his heart pounding. 

He thought back to all the times Jisoo almost passed out in his apartment after work, and all the times he had sleepless nights in the emergency room where he called Jeonghan with new stories from new patients. All the hoping, all the praying he knew Jisoo had done so he could make it, and here he was. He had done it. Years and years later, he succeeded.

-=+=-

“Why are we out here again?” Hansol asked, staring out the front of the car into the rolling fields Seungkwan had driven him to.

“There’s no light pollution” Seungkwan answered, turning off the car and stepping out. The night was cold, but not unbearable. Although it still gave Hansol the urge to snuggle up with Seungkwan to warm his bones. Seungkwan grabbed a blanket out of the back seat and walked out into the field of grass, Hansol hesitantly following him. They walked for a good 10 minutes, to the point that they could barely see the car, and Seungkwan spread the blanket out, pulling his shoes off and sitting in the center. Hansol tilted his head, although followed suit, sitting next to Seungkwan and covering the older’s hand with his. Seungkwan pointed up at the sky.

“You see that star? The bright one?” He asked, looking over at Hansol. Hansol didn’t take his eyes off of Seungkwan. He nodded.

“You liar, you didn’t even look at the sky!” Seungkwan sighed, and Hansol brushed one hand across the other’s jaw, his expression softening.

“I know”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, but placed his hand over Hansol’s, smiling.

“You look so pretty when you smile” Hansol murmured, pressing his lips to Seungkwan’s forehead. Seungkwan gently smacked his chest, giggling, and Hansol put his hands on Seungkwan’s waist, pulling the older into his lap. Seungkwan gasped and steadied himself by putting his hands on Hansol’s shoulders, waiting a moment until he could support himself without falling over. He then placed his hands gently on the sides of Hansol’s neck, smiling down at him. Hansol kisses Seungkwan’s collarbone, which was exposed by his low-necked shirt, and slowly worked his way up Seungkwan’s neck, leaving his own little marks occasionally, and bumped his nose against Seungkwan’s cheek, kissing the side of his mouth until Seungkwan grew fed up, covering Hansol’s lips with his own. Hansol sighed into the kiss and Seungkwan grabbed the fabrics of his shirt, leaning backwards so his shoulders hit the blanket behind him, and Hansol was completely towering over him. The moon hit his face at just the right angle, illuminating his perfect features. Seungkwan looped his arms around Hansol’s neck and pulled him down, relishing in the contact. Hansol ran his hands along Seungkwan’s sides, pulling at the corner of his shirt and sliding his hands across the smooth, soft skin. Seungkwan wined and pushed on Hansol’s jacket. The younger paused just long enough to slide his jacket off of his shoulders, revealing his tight black t-shirt. Seungkwan approved of his choice of clothing, and yanked him back down, pressing his lips to Hansol’s. Hansol ran his hand down the inside of Seungkwan’s thigh, and Seungkwan hissed, the chill of the night not seeming so bad anymore. 

-=+=-

Time passed slowly, gradually. Jisoo climbed up the metaphorical ladder, earning a place in the heart of his hospital. Jeonghan continued to write for various agencies, starting to work on his own book centered around the behavior and psychological differences between different social classes and careers. Seungkwan and Hansol grew together as people, and thrives in their own little world. Jihoon continued to compose music, and got himself a keyboard to put in his room. Seungcheol and the rest of the gang settled into a normal lifestyle- dealing weapons and working jobs. For a long time, their lives didn’t cross paths, they only stayed within their groups, the rejects and the socially acceptable. After time, however, the lines between the two blurred. Loyalties were challenged, and the foreign concept of “love” bloomed in most unlikely ways. Here, nearly two years later, another chapter of their lives began. 

-=+=-

This is not a love story. 

Whatever they may think, whatever they may see, does not at all contribute to a love story. No matter how much he wanted it to be something more, he new it should not- could not- become anything other than a fantasy. So why was it so hard to just walk away? Why was it so hard to close to door, and go back to sleep, pretend he had never seen the damn text message? Why did he feel the need to respond, to ask what was going on? He looked down at his phone, and furrowed his eyebrows.

[Jeonghan]  
[14:02]  
8663 Walter Ave.

[Seungcheol]  
[14:12]  
Why?

[Jeonghan]  
[15:37]  
{Attachment: 1 image}  
Don’t bring a gun.

Of course, the picture was sent in a file. One picture. He hasn't opened it. He knows it can’t mean anything but trouble. So why can’t he just put the phone down, and ignore it?

Because it’s Jeonghan. 

Because it might mean Jeonghan’s in trouble. 

Because, ultimately, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he let something happen to Jeonghan. 

Because maybe, just maybe. Underneath all of his self-loathing, underneath everything telling him to stop, there was a glimmer of what if.

What if he isn’t morally gone?

What if he still cares about Jeonghan?

What if they can settle down after all of this is over?

What if Jeonghan still cares about him?

And so, with that in mind, his finger hovered over the picture file. He felt a hand cover his shoulder, and looked over at Mingyu, who smiled supportively down at him. The taller tapped the picture for him, and he bit his lip as it loaded. The circle fully filled in, and he nearly choked, dripping his phone on the table. Mingyu covered his mouth and immediately picked the device up, making sure Seungcheol couldn’t see it.

“Oh god- should we..?” He asked, staring down at the leader. His face was blank.

“You bet, Gyu. We’re going, and we’re going tonight.”

-=+=-

Jisoo walked out of OR 6, checking the time. The emergency call had lasted a good 8 hours, so it was already nearly time for him to start his normal shift. He slid his coat off of his shoulders but kept the name tag, slinging the crisp white cloth over his arm. He walked into the emergency room waiting room, knowing that the receptionist on duty right now was good to talk to, and that Kihyun might possibly show up. What he wasn’t expecting was the room to be nearly empty, save a little boy sitting on the floor by one of the tables, coloring. He looked up when Jisoo entered and beamed, his eyes smiling as well. 

“Hey, mister!” He chirped, and Jisoo waved, walking around the desk to quickly call his mother and wish her a happy birthday. He played with one of the pens in the pen holder, and hung up after leaving his message, knowing she wouldn’t be up at this hour. He grabbed the lollipop stuck in with the pens and walked over to the kid, squatting down next to him. He held out the lollipop, and the child looked up at him, taking it after a moment.

“What’s your name?” He asked, glancing at the coloring page he was filling in with a few broken crayons and a pencil.

“Daejung” He unwrapped the lollipop and stuck it in his mouth, professionally avoiding conversation.

“That’s a beautiful name, Daejung. I’m Jisoo. I’m from America, actually!” He added, trying to catch the boy’s attention. He looked over at Jisoo with wide eyes. Daejung pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and put it on top of his coloring sheet.

“Do you think you can tell me why we’re here?” He tried to be gentle. Daejung’s face scrunched up.

“Mama was all red” he cried, and Jisoo tried to calm him down. Daejung cling to his midriff, and Jisoo gently pat his back.

“We’re gonna try and fix your mom right up, okay?” He reassured the small boy, who nodded into his pale purple sweater. 

“What about papa?” Daejung sniffled, and Jisoo pat his head. 

“Do you want me to go find out?” He asked, and Daejung nodded again.

“Okay, stay here then, I’ll be right back” Jisoo instructed, and gently peeled the small boy off of his waist, pulling the coat back on as he walked into one of the only two occupied rooms. 

“Doctor Hong-“ he recognized one of the trainees, a kid named Taeyong, who had a grim look on his face.

“Time?” He asked, and Taeyong cringed.

“6:38”

“Fuck. How’s the wife?” He added on, and Taeyong’s expression stiffened.

“Dead on scene.”

He squeezed his eyes closed, and exhaled through his nose.

“Doctor Hong, why are you showing interest in these two patients?” He spoke as if he were walking on eggshells. “You moved out of emergency responder years ago”

“Yeah, but they’ve… there’s a kid in the lobby, their kid. He doesn’t know- doesn’t seem to be in a state of trauma yet, no visible injuries. But he’s still…” he gestured to the blood-stained white sheets. Taeyong’s eyes widened, as if a motherly instinct kicked in. 

“We need to check for direct family, godparents, anything” Jisoo sighed, and looked at the record clutched in Taeyong’s hands. 

“Kim. Helpful. That definitely narrowed it down” he sneered, and stalked out of the room, heading right for the computer systems desk.

-

“Nothing. Seriously. Nothing?” Jisoo groaned, slamming his forehead on the clipboard in front of him. 

“Grandparents are dead, mother and father were only children. No known godparents. Sir, we have to put him in an orphanage.” The receptionist droned, and he worked a hand into his hair. 

“I probably have to explain it to him now, don’t I?” He mumbled, and stood up, looking longingly into the sector he usually worked in, but begrudgingly heading down to the ER.

-

“What’s gonna happen to me, mister?” Daejung asked, and Jisoo squeezed his eyes closed.

“We’re going to find you somewhere nice to live, okay?” Jisoo cautiously spoke, and Daejung tearfully nodded. He had spent the last 45 minutes sobbing his eyes out, and Jisoo couldn’t handle that much crying without feeling emotional himself. He wondered if any of the doctors here were looking at adopting. Maybe Lisa- she liked kids, right? Then he remembered she was always traveling to Philadelphia for CHOP, with her specialized pediatric knowledge. He closed his eyes and groaned quietly, and Daejung clung to his neck, basically forcing him to hold the small child in his arms. He stood up, one arm underneath Daejung and the other around him to hold him up. He made his way towards the front desk area, shifting one hand to stroke Daejung’s hair. He quietly shushed him, using his best knowledge of child care (which wasn’t much). The receptionist looked up at him as he entered, and he sat down in one of the chairs near her, letting Daejung sit in his lap.

“How’s it going?” She asked quietly, and he shrugged, tilting his head over to look at her, his eyes immediately finding her nametag. Another suspiciously western name. He was starting to thing they only hired people that had, at some point, lived in America, or went by english names. Daejung pulled at his nametag, and he almost choked, looking back down at the child and gently pushing the cord behind his neck so he wouldn’t die. 

“Daejung?” He asked, and the captured the boy’s attention. “How old are you?” He followed up, and Daejung held up 4 fingers. “You’re 4? Ah, I wish I was that young” He joked, trying to force a smile. Daejung laughed. 

It occurred to him then that the kid had no clue what was happening- his emotions were too few to far gone. Maybe tomorrow, when he woke up without his parents, he would understand. Maybe not even then, perhaps in a few years when he could grasp the concept of death and go running up to whoever was taking care of him, asking them what happened to his mother and father. Jisoo furrowed his eyebrows and pressed his lips together. After years of working in the medical field, one would think that, somehow they’d get used to it. In reality, he found that he could still hardly bear whenever he had to break the news to any of his patients or their families.

“Mister, are you gonna be my papa now?” Daejung asked, bouncing up and down on Jisoo’s leg. Jisoo actually choked this time- on his own breath- and took a little while to recover.

“Listen, I don’t think I can-”

“Papa! Papa!” He cheered, poking Jisoo between the ribs. The receptionist stifled her own laughter, and Jisoo shot her a bit of a glare, at least as much of a glare as he could manage while holding a flailing 4 year old.

“Well, why can’t you?” She giggled, and he exhaled deeply, looking down at the ground. He pulled Daejung into his arms and stood up, sitting him on the counter so he could properly talk to the woman.

“I’m a surgeon, I hardly have time to take care of myself, let alone a screaming kid” He responded, sounding utterly defeated. The truth was, he’d love to take care of Daejung, but for what it was worth, he wouldn’t be able to be a good father with his schedule. True, he could use Jeonghan as a babysitter, but that wouldn’t last forever.

Or would it?

He figured Jeonghan wouldn’t care, the man loved kids anyway, and being stuck at home all day had to get boring. He looked down at Daejung, who appeared to be nodding off on his shoulder, and involuntarily felt his mouth turn up into a smile.

“Maybe. Just maybe.” He whispered.

-=+=-

Seungcheol slammed the front door closed, and Wonwoo raised his eyebrows slightly, looking at the door like he was inspecting it for cracks.

“What’s up with him?” He asked, looking over to where Mingyu had just been standing. Instead, he found himself alone in the room. “Oh.”

He grabbed his jacket and pistol from his and Mingyu’s shared room quickly, and ran after the pair, hoping to catch them in the garage, because there was no way in hell he was leaving Mingyu to deal with that alone. Luckily, he caught them just as they were climbing into Junhui’s car, and threw open the back door, climbing in.

“Wonwoo-”

“Shut up. I’m coming.” He hissed, and Mingyu shook his head, clearly exasperated.

“Babe, you’re unbelievable” Mingyu sighed, and Wonwoo reached forward to rub his shoulder.

“And you’re stuck with me” He taunted, leaning back in his seat and choosing to forego the seat belt, instead sitting in the center so he could see out the windshield. “So, where are we going, exactly?” He asked after a moment of silence, and Seungcheol gestured something to Mingyu, who awkwardly pulled Seungcheol’s phone out of his back pocket and typed in the passcode from memory, passing it back to Wonwoo with a string of messages displayed on the screen. He read the name first.

“Jeonghan…?” He asked quietly, and Mingyu gave him a warning look.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan hadn’t communicated for months, supposedly after Seungcheol had gotten hurt on a job and Jeonghan had finally understood that being in a relationship with a gang leader was probably not a good idea. It had never been stated, though, only inferred. He read the rest of the messages quickly, and then tapped on the picture, his breath catching in his throat. 

It wasn’t Jeonghan, that’s for sure. It wasn’t even a person. But it was something he recognized. Jeonghan’s thin, circular glasses, cracks running up the glass. The cracks were stained red, the metal encrusted with dried blood. There didn’t have to be any more to the picture to convey the message perfectly. For some damn reason, Jeonghan was being held hostage.

“Why, though? You guys haven’t seen each other in too long for them to have expected that to work” He was confused, but thought he got the point. Sure, they hadn’t communicated directly, but everyone in the group knew that Seungcheol still looked after Jeonghan. He did have connections, after all. Did.. whoever this was hear it from one of them? Fuck, if Seungcheol found out who it was, he would hit ‘em where it hurt, that’s for sure. 

If there was one thing Wonwoo learned from listening in to conversations from other groups, it was that you didn’t fuck with Choi Seungcheol, no matter how bad you wanted to  
.  
They rode in silence, Wonwoo having returned the phone, and the entire vehicle on edge now. Mingyu slid his hand back on the console, and Wonwoo reached forward a bit, brushing against Mingyu’s warm skin. The taller took his hand, and laced their fingers together wordlessly. Wonwoo leaned forward, resting his head against the side of Seungcheol’s seat. Their leader was determined, that’s for sure. Even if it killed the three of them, he was going to try. 

The car stopped in the middle of an empty parking lot adjacent to the building that they were told to go to. It was large, an old theatre. Provided many spots for people to lie in wait for them to make one wrong move. 

“No weapons yet.” Seungcheol warned, closing the car door and making sure that his coat covered the gun tucked into his belt. Both of the other two did the same, and then followed him through the front doors. The large, engraved french doors beyond the front entrance were open wide to the main stage. Makeshift walls covered the hallways to either side, leaving them only one option. And so they took it. They entered the room, finding some of the lights on. The curtain was down, and Wonwoo narrowed his eyes.

“Just wait” He mumbled, and Seungcheol paused. “Something is about to happen” He added, and the leader looked all around, checking for any signs of scopes or explosives anywhere. Most of the seating had been ripped up in the center, leaving only two rows in the front and the side aisles. Still, a bomb could be rigged to the bottom of any of the chairs. Wonwoo shuddered. There were old posters hanging all around the room, each one depicting an old show. He narrowed his eyes at the one front and center, seeming to be in the best condition.

“The Phantom of the Opera?” He asked aloud, and Mingyu looked over his shoulder at Wonwoo, following his line of sight.

“His life is now the prize which you must earn” A voice echoed, and Wonwoo almost laughed. Was this actually happening? Was a criminal speaking in Phantom of the Opera quotes?

“Who are you?” Wonwoo called back, just for shits and giggles.

“Wandering child, so lost, so hopeless, yearning for my guidance, have you forgotten your angel?” the voice replied.

“That wasn’t much of an answer, but okay” Mingyu snorted, and Seungcheol looked over, pursing his lips.

“Is this guy for real?” He mumbled, and Wonwoo shrugged, responding with a quiet

“I’ll handle it”

“How about you come out, and we can talk about things?” Wonwoo called back patiently.

“Why you ask, was I bound and chained in this cold dismal place? Not for any mortal sin, but the wickedness of my abhorrent face!”

Mingyu wheezed beside him, lying his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“So you’re not here because you’re crazy? Good to know” Seungcheol sneered, crossing his arms across his chest.

Soft music came from behind the curtain, and Wonwoo almost lost it.

“The overture” He mumbled, tapping Mingyu’s forehead. 

“Get off the organ and show your fucking face!” Seungcheol yelled, and the music abruptly stopped.

“Pity comes too late, turn around and face your fate: an eternity of this before your eyes!”

The voice was closer, so Wonwoo turned around and looked up into the mezzanine. There stood a tall man, presumably, with an exact replica of Eric’s costume on. Wonwoo bit his lip to keep from saying something. 

“Hounded out by everyone! Met with hatred everywhere! No kind of word from anyone! No compassion anywhere!” His voice wavered, and Wonwoo rolled his eyes a bit. He was trying to be dramatic, at this point, and Wonwoo just wanted him to get on with it.

“Flattering child, you shall know me, see why in show I hide! Look at your face in the mirror…” He rolled his hands, and Wonwoo tilted his head.

“I am there inside?” He finished the line, questioning his very existence.

He could almost sense the guy perk up, with someone finally understanding his references. Wonwoo felt Mingyu grab his hand, and he squeezed it.

“Wait, do we have to find a mirror?” Wonwoo asked, feeling like a child. Seungcheol pulled his gun out of his belt and turned around, spotting a mirror on the opposite wall and shooting it. It shattered and fell to the ground, revealing… absolutely nothing.

“What the fuck?” He snapped, turning the gun on… just call him the phantom. The phantom flinched, and Seungcheol looked over at Wonwoo with a ‘I got out of bed for this bullshit?’ face. Wonwoo shrugged, and looked back at the phantom. 

“J-Just go b-behind the curtain” He stuttered, his voice sounding rather high and cracky.

“Pre-pubescent piece of shit” Seungcheol growled, and stalked over to the curtain, slipping behind it. Mingyu and Wonwoo followed, finding Seungcheol already untying the bonds on a chair. Jeonghan was slumped over, blood matting his hair to his face. Wonwoo looked over at Mingyu, sighing.

“That was anticlimactic. Almost painfully so” He mumbled, and Mingyu laughed quietly, reaching out and brushing a strand of Wonwoo’s hair behind his ear. A small groan drew their attention, and they both looked over at Jeonghan, who was slowly opening his eyes. Seungcheol crouched down in front of him and put his hands tenderly on Jeonghan’s knees.

Wonwoo took a step back to give them space, and reflected upon what the fuck had just happened. Some guy deadass dressed up as Eric, spoke nearly entirely in Phantom of the Opera quotes, and flinched when he saw a gun. Clearly, he hadn’t dealt with gangs before. Clearly, he wasn’t going to be dealing with gangs, or anyone, anymore, judging by Seungcheol’s expression. Wonwoo bent down and picked up a card off of the floor. It was a regular playing card, the king of hearts. He turned it over in his hands and closed his eyes, exhaling. Across the back of the card, there was a large butcher’s knife drawn in black sharpie.

“This is a ruse” He announced, flipping the card in his fingers to display to Seungcheol.

“They’re telling you that they know you. They know who you care about” He added, pocketing the card, and Seungcheol stood up, pulling a now-conscious Jeonghan to his feet.

“Yeah, I figured. There’s no way that guy could pick a lock, let alone go out in public, with how he looks” Seungcheol scoffed. “But that’s not a worry for right now- we need to get out of here before I fall asleep or shoot the kid, whichever comes first.” 

Mingyu nodded and walked over to Jeonghan, picking him up easily despite Jeonghan’s adamant protesting.

“You might be hurt” he offered simply, and Jeonghan stopped squirming, instead latching his arms around Mingyu’s neck.

“Hey, shh” Seungcheol snapped, and they all fell silent almost immediately, listening. The building creaked a bit, but other than that, the only audible sound was the wind howling outside. Seungcheol pressed a finger to his lips and looked around, spotting a door marked exit. He pointed to it, and then to Mingyu and Wonwoo. They both nodded and walked towards the door, looking back at their leader for a queue. He crept to the edge of the curtain, his pistol in his hand, and pointed at them. They opened the door, which made a painfully loud noise, and Seungcheol stepped out from behind the curtain.

-

The three quickly fled the building, darting across the street and passing into the more acceptable part of town, eagerly watching the theatre. Mingyu set Jeonghan down, who gladly dusted himself off and wiped off his face with his sleeve. Everything was still quiet. No cars, no sirens, just the wind in their ears. They stood still, eyes trailed on the door. Then, the first shot came.

And another.

And another. 

They cringed at each sound, counting the number of times they could hear a gunshot.

Seven. 7 shots were fired before the back door opened again. 

Seven shots were fired before Seungcheol ran out into the parking lot, immediately turning and looking at them.

Seven shots were fired before the red started to spread across Seungcheol’s shirt. 

Jeonghan screamed.

Mingyu took off across the road, Wonwoo hot on his heels.

“Call!” Wonwoo yelled, stopping to toss Jeonghan the phone he had picked up off of the side counter. Jeonghan dialed 3 numbers and pressed the phone to his ear.

Mingyu managed to get to Seungcheol’s side while he was still upright, and the leader promptly collapsed against Mingyu, who caught him. He sank down to his knees, hugging Seungcheol to his chest, effectively staining the front of his shirt. He thought for a moment and then laid Seungcheol down, ripping open the front of his shirt. He thought back to the time he had been in a similar situation, and his shoulder aches just thinking about it.

Wonwoo, always the smart one, pulled his jacket off and pressed it against the wound, looking at Seungcheol’s face.

“Hey, Cheol, talk to me, okay?” He asked, and Seungcheol’s lips parted like he was going to say something. Instead, he turned his head and coughed, blood splattering on the pavement. Mingyu grabbed his gun from his belt.

“Are they all dead?” He asked, and Seungcheol managed to nod, his eyes flickering. He set down the weapon and smiled down at the leader, shakily wiping the blood off of his cheek.

“You’re gonna be fine, Cheolie, Okay?” He mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. Jeonghan squatted down next to Mingyu, hugging his knees to his chest.

“I’m sorry” he cried, tears leaking out of his eyes, some of them mixing with the blood on his face still. He hesitantly reached out and grabbed Seungcheol’s hand, squeezing it.

Seungcheol didn’t squeeze back.

-=+=-

Hansol was asleep when his phone rang on the side table. He groaned and picked it up, pressing it to his ear.

“Hey?” He asked groggily, and felt Seungkwan’s arm drape across his waist.

‘Hey, Hansol. We’re at the hospital. Seungcheol’s hurt bad.’ Wonwoo’s voice came from the phone, and Hansol sat bolt upright. Seungkwan day up beside him, concerned.

“What? How?” He hissed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and stumbling over to the light switch, blinking so he didn’t blind himself. 

‘He got shot in the chest, paramedic said something about a damaged lung. There’s blood everywhere. They had to stick some tube I his chest, I don’t know. Don’t come, though. We’ve got it handled. Can you tell everyone else? My phone is about to die. Thanks, bye.’

The phone line went silent, and Hansol grabbed his pants from the floor, pulling them on and tying the strings at the waist. He blindly picked up a shirt and pulled it on, looking over at Seungkwan. 

“Cheol got shot in the chest. They’re in the hospital. He told me to tell everyone” he sighed, and Seungkwan’s eyes widened. Hansol ran his hand through his hair and walked over to the edge of the bed, pulling Seungkwan into a sloppy kiss.

“I love you so much, Kwannie” he whispered before walking out of the room, heading up to Soonyoung and Seokmin’s door. He opened it quietly, his eyes falling on the two, sound asleep in their bed.

“Hey” He half spoke, half whispered. Seokmin opened his eyes, and glared at Hansol.

“What do you want?” He asked, sounding like he just wanted to go back to sleep.

“Cheol got shot. Damaged lung. They’re in the hospital now.” He deadpanned, not trusting himself with his emotions right now.

“What is it?” Soonyoung mumbled, opening his eyes. Seokmin gestured to Hansol, who stepped back and closed the door. He heard a low voice and a gasp from the other side of the door, and cringed. He repeated the action for each of the remaining two rooms.

Junhui and Minghao.

Jihoon and Chan.

They all had a similar reaction- too tired to process what was going on. Hansol felt the same way, although he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep.

-=+=-

Jeonghan knew that Seungcheol would be fine. Jisoo had told him so. So why was he still so worried? He shouldn’t care, right? He had told himself that he was over Seungcheol months ago.

But, he found that it still hurt. 

Now, hours later, he could see Seungcheol lying, completely still, on the white hospital sheets. He could see the heart rate monitor, he could tell that Seungcheol was alive and breathing- mostly. His heart hurt. Jisoo stepped into the room and looked over at Jeonghan, reaching up and brushing his friend’s hair back to look at the cut near his hairline. He brushed his thumb over it and frowned, but let Jeonghan’s hair fall back into its original spot, not mentioning anything. 

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, Hannie, but you have to at some point” Jisoo mumbled, and Jeonghan scrunched his face up, trying to force himself not to cry. It didn’t work all too well. Jisoo pulled him into a hug and let Jeonghan cry into his shoulder, stroking his hair and murmuring words of encouragement.

-

Jeonghan sat down with Jisoo in the waiting room, and recounted his tale.

“I- I fell asleep in my room and then woke up there. My head really hurt, but other than that nothing felt wrong. I was tied to a chair. Then some guy and up to me with a gun, and pressed it to the side of my head. He- he told me that I was a message.” Jeonghan hugged himself, curling up a bit “he told me that now- now he kn-knew me, and that I w-was a weakness. He t-told me I better watch out” his voice trailed off, and he teared up again. Jisoo put a period on what he had been writing down and then leaned over, pulling Jeonghan into another hug, which he gladly accepted.

-

“We should get him in for psychological damage” Jisoo pointed his pen at a sleeping Jeonghan, and one of the nurses nodded, writing something down. “And I’ll talk to the other two about living arrangements” he added, and the nurse walked away. Jisoo waved Mingyu and Wonwoo over. Mingyu was nervously clutching his boyfriend’s hand.

“Listen, boys. Jeonghan seems to have been thrust into your little realm. He isn’t safe alone, now. This is your responsibility, okay? He can’t live alone anymore. You need to figure that out with him and with Seungcheol, once he’s awake and able to communicate safely. I know you have plenty of room in your dorm, but you can also have someone live with Jeonghan. Whichever is preferable. We’re going to get him PTSD tested, hopefully those results show up negative, and this is temporary shock, but I can’t say I’m that hopeful. Got it? I’m not bringing the police into this, I know you can handle yourselves. So, here you go.”

He ripped the page of what Jeonghan had said off of his notepad and handed it to Wonwoo, who nodded and shoved it into his pocket.

“Now, about Seungcheol. He’s going to be here for a decent amount of time, the damage is extensive, but not irreversible. I don’t care how insane you people think you are, once he gets out of here, he isn’t going to get out of his bed for at least another week and a half. You know what, make that two, just to be sure. You and your friends will be a slave to his will, unless you want him to choke and eventually drown on his own blood. Do you understand me?”

Both of them nodded quickly, fear flickering in their eyes.

“Good. Now that that’s out of the way, how about you sit back and get some rest. Don’t need two more patients now, do we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so this is chapter 2! Thanks so much, and sorry for the cliche time slip in the middle, things just had to progress. The plot will really start up next chapter. Any suggestions or requests are appreciated! And if you guys want more frequent, shorter chapters, just say the word lmao. Thanks again!


	3. Rock and Roll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Jeonghan is a little less innocent.
> 
> Hey!!! If you would like to see more of a specific ship or character, let me know! I’m definitely open to requests! Thank you!
> 
> Also, sorry about any typing errors- I do try to proofread the best that I can, but things usually slip through. If I see an error I will try to correct it, but I swear I have at least a mediocre understanding of the English language.

The last place that Choi Seungcheol wanted to find himself in was a hospital. Not only did he hate hospitals because nothing good ever happened to him in a hospital, but he also despised the buildings for legal reasons. More specifically, his overwhelming desire to never set foot in a prison ever again. True, if he was aiming to stay clean, this wasn’t the best profession, but hey. He was gonna take what he could get. 

But now, he found himself staring at the white ceiling, the white walls, the white curtains (why did everything have to be so fucking white? It felt like he was witnessing an American political meeting or something) and wondering 1. When he could get out and 2. Why he was having trouble breathing properly. 

He attempted to inhale more than a shallow breath, and pain immediately ripped through his torso. He squeaked pathetically and squeezed his eyes closed, knotting his hands in the fabric of the sheets. The heart rate monitor at his bedside spiked, the BPM counter skyrocketing as the machine emitted furious beeping noises. He tried to control his breathing, but found that very difficult when he couldn’t “take a deep breath” like his mom told him to do when he was 14 and started panicking over a math test. He forced himself to relax, trying to concentrate on not suffocating himself. The beeping gradually slowed to what he assumed was a normal level of annoying. He coughed a bit, involuntarily, and spits danced in front of his eyes. He groaned and rolled into his side, pressing his hand to the right side of his chest. 

“Woah- Seungcheol, lie flat!” A familiar voice commanded, and he felt his shoulder being pushed down into the mattress so he was flat on his back again. Throbbing pains still jolted through his torso every time he inhaled. He managed to open his eyes, Jisoo hovering over him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Jisoo covered it with his hand.

“Eh. No talking. Lie flat on your back. Unless you want to end up killing yourself.” He chided, and Seungcheol narrowed his eyes, causing Jisoo to beam, stepping back from his bedside and writing something down.

“And don’t worry, no law enforcement officers are getting involved. Jeonghan trusts you guys enough to take care of it on your own.” He added before slipping out the door, leaving Seungcheol alone again for a moment until Wonwoo and Mingyu cautiously entered the room. He raised his arm and waved, managing a small smile.

“Hey, Cheol. How are you feeling?” Mingyu asked, and he put his thumb sideways.

“Kind of eh, huh?” He chuckled, although Seungcheol could see the concern in his face. He gave him a face that clearly read ‘you’ve been through this before’ and Mingyu shook his head.

“Those were just flesh wounds, they could get stitched up and heal on their own. They had you hooked up to some machine that like, breathed for you, or something” He shuddered, and Wonwoo rolled his eyes.

“What he’s trying to say, is no vital organs were damaged with him. You, on the other hand, you really like to be a pain in the ass, boss”

That got a thumbs-up. 

-=+=-

Seungcheol leaned against Mingyu, who was practically holding him up. He felt so weak and pathetic, hardly able to walk by himself. He couldn’t tell if it was a side-effect to being on approximately 120 different pain meds, or the fact that there was still a hole through his torso. He shifted awkwardly and cringed, but didn’t say anything at the new wave of pain. Mingyu must have noticed or something, because he looked over at Seungcheol and frowned.

“Just let me carry you” He sighed, and Seungcheol glared at him.

“Death before dishonor” he hissed, and Mingyu rolled his eyes, gladly pushing open the door at the top of the stairs. Only a little hallway to go, and everything would be more or less back to normal. 

Seungcheol finally stepped through the doorway to the house- with Mingyu’s help, of course- and was greeted by Soonyoung. The smaller was practically bouncing up and down, smiling from ear to ear.

“Hey boss!” He chirped, and Seungcheol smiled weakly at him. Mingyu gave up and just picked the leader up, carried him into his room and laid him down on his bed. Seungcheol, although thoroughly embarrassed, had to admit that it was a much more efficient method. He sat up and kicked his shoes off, freeing himself of his shirt, and finally lying back. He closed his eyes, and almost immediately fell fast asleep. 

Mingyu stood beside Seungcheol’s bed, looking accusingly at the bandage on his leader’s chest. He looked around the room, taking in how organized everything seemed to be. 

“Oh. Hey” Jeonghan greeted, walking out of the bathroom with still-damp hair hanging in his eyes.

Oh. And that. He had almost forgotten that Jeonghan had moved in with them. The moment Jisoo had brought up the dilemma to Jeonghan, he had immediately agreed to move in with the gang. Mingyu had thought it was a horrendous idea- he still did- but he had warmed up to it slightly. 

On one side, Jeonghan wasn’t a member of the gang. He’d never killed anyone, he could hardly shoot a gun (unless he had practiced over the past two years), and most definitely wouldn’t know what to do if confronted on the streets.

On the other side, he needed a place to stay. He already knew all of them, Seungcheol a bit more personally than the rest of them. Of course, that had been long ago, and Mingyu assumed neither of them would think anything of it. As Seungcheol had described it before, it was “a one time thing”. 

Mingyu had also doubted that Jeonghan would want to stay with them in the first place. Someone was almost always hurt, somehow. They were entirely too loud, there were too many of them, even if the house was huge. They were obnoxious, the entered and exited during ungodly hours, and there was a weapon lying on almost every flat surface in the house. 

He sighed, turning and walking out of the room. He had already had this conversation with Jeonghan, but the older seemed… completely unbothered by the fact he was living with murderers. He also seemed entirely okay with being Seungcheol’s roommate- a little too okay with it, if anyone asked Mingyu for his opinion- but who was he to judge if they actually sorted things out? He just hoped that Jeonghan wouldn’t try to associate himself with them.

“Woah- got somewhere to go?” He heard from the living room, and paused in the doorway, looking over at the source of the voice. Wonwoo was lounging on one part of the sectional, lying on his stomach with his chin on his hands so he could look up at his boyfriend. Mingyu smiled and walked into the room, collapsing onto the couch after flinging his shoes into the corner of the room. He found his face a foot from Wonwoo’s, and he was able to study his features as he had done many times in the past. The straight bridge of his nose, his slightly squared off jaw, the way his eyebrows began slightly after the inner corners of his eyes. The neutral set to his expression. It was all perfect. He reached out and ran the back of hand lightly down the side of Wonwoo’s face.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” He mumbled, and Wonwoo gave him a small smile. 

“Perfection is an illusion” he added in sarcastically, and Mingyu huffed, letting his hand drop onto the couch cushion. Wonwoo reached out with one of his hands and took Mingyu’s, pulling it in towards his chest and kissing the top of Mingyu’s knuckles.

“Then I guess you’re a figment of my imagination” Mingyu retorted, and Wonwoo turned his head so Mingyu couldn’t see his face. He flipped over onto his stomach and pulled himself a little closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Wonwoo’s head. Wonwoo rolled off of the couch and onto his feet, flopping on top of Mingyu, who had the breath abruptly forced out of his lungs. 

“Roll over” Wonwoo commanded, and Mingyu complied. Wonwoo then proceeded to lie directly on top of Mingyu, his head resting on Mingyu’s chest, right above his heart.

-=+=-

“Junhui, come to bed” Minghao requested, leaning against the doorframe to the garage. Junhui looked up from whatever he was working on and sighed.

“Hao, I’m almost done. Like, 20 more minutes?” He whined, and Minghao crossed the room in his bare feet, the cement cold against his skin. 

“Jun, it’s already midnight, just save it until tomorrow” Minghao crossed his arms, and Junhui frowned, looking oddly adorable. 

“But Hao, I’ve been working on this nonstop for days- I just want to finish!” He gestured to the contraption, all of the small pieces completely foreign to the blonde Chinese man. He reached out to touch Junhui’s shoulder, and the older physically recoiled. Minghao’s lips parted slightly, and he took a step back, a bit hurt.

“Hao, I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop, Jun.” Minghao interrupted, his piercing gaze fixed on Junhui. “Recently, you’ve been way too secluded. You need to start opening yourself up to me. I thought, after all this time, after all that we’ve been through together that maybe, just maybe you’d be able to trust me. Look, I know it takes a lot to earn your trust, and that’s okay. But… at least try. Please, Jun. For both of us” He finished off his small speech and turned on his heel, walking back towards the door.

“You aren’t wearing shoes, Hao. Your feet will get cold.” Junhui pointed out when Minghao reached the doorstep, and the younger froze. That was all he had to say? He threw a glare over his shoulder before slamming the door closed and marching up the steps, the echo of his last gesture ringing in the empty stairwell. 

-

“Minghao, what was that noise?” Seokmin asked groggily when he entered the main building, and Minghao shook his head, attempting to blink away tears.

“Junhui” His voice cracked, and Seokmin jumped up from his seat and rushed over, rubbing Minghao’s back and pulling him into a hug. 

“I know he’s been acting off-” Seokmin started, and Minghao cut him off.

“I-I went to rub his shoulder a-and he jerked back, Seokmin. H-he looked so scared of me” Minghao gasped, clinging to Seokmin’s torso. The taller furrowed his eyebrows and continued to reassure Minghao that he was alright, that Junhui was alright. He led Minghao into his room and stayed there until he fell asleep, the skin around his eyes still red and wet. Seokmin stood up quietly and backed out of the room, closing the door as softly as he could and walking to the front door. Junhui was still in the garage, not surprisingly. If Seokmin wasn’t planning to go down there, he didn’t think he’d see the man for hours still. He pulled his shoes on and opened the door, taking the stairs two at a time and opening the door leading to the garage almost as angrily as Minghao had closed it. Junhui looked up, his eyes widening a little bit at Seokmin’s expression.

“You fucked up this time, Junhui” He growled, and Jun took a step back.

“Seokmin, I-”

“You don’t get to talk right now. I know you’re shy, I know you don’t like contact, I know you don’t trust easily. But please tell me why the fuck your boyfriend just cried himself to sleep in his room, huh? Because of you, Junhui. He’s worried about you, and all you do is brush him off! So I don’t care how much it fucking sucks, you’re gonna make a decision. Do you want to stay with Minghao?” He snapped, and Junhui nodded immediately, his lips firmly sealed.

“So that means you need to start listening to each other, okay? You two have been a thing for a year and a half, and you still spend most nights holed up down here. I don’t care if you feel like the only thing you sympathize with is a machine, you have a perfectly alive, warm, loving human being lying in your bed waiting for you just a minute away. Tell me why it’s so hard to work during the day and spend time with the people who care about you after! Maybe if you actually tried, it would be better!” He finished, breathing hard, and realized that Junhui was crying. Two people in tears was two too many for Seokmin. He took a deep breath and collected himself.

“You better fix this, Wen Junhui.” He stated coldly, the anger in his mind having thoroughly died down. It had been a long time since he had gotten genuinely angry- annoyed, sure, that came with living with 10 wonderful idiots, but never angry- and he had to admit, letting off some steam, as horrible as it may sound, settled his mind. He felt bad for taking it out on Junhui, he thought as he climbed the stairs, ready to collapse onto his sheets with Soonyoung and talk for awhile. But then again, Junhui kind of needed to hear that. No matter how much it hurt to hear, or to deliver. He hoped that Junhui would be able to make the right decision. 

-

Jun stared down at the parts scattered across the table, scrubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands after a moment. He laid down the small screwdriver and grabbed an old blanket, draping it over the delicate machine and heading towards the door. Seokmin was right, he needed to- as much as he hated it- socialize. He figured that starting with Minghao wouldn’t be so bad. 

Minghao, who was with him from the moment they started talking in China. Minghao, who never wanted anything but the best from him. Minghao, who watched his insecurities develop, who tried to help him so badly. Minghao, who had asked him out a year and a half ago. 

He had said yes. Of course he had said yes. And since then, they were somehow categorized as a couple, even though he was a horrible ‘boyfriend’. He never talked about himself, or his feelings, his thoughts. Minghao had tried his best to open up to Junhui, never getting much of a response. But, all in all, Junhui did love Minghao. Even though it didn’t look that way. He pushed open the door to the house and slipped his shoes off, softly padding down the hallway and resting his hand on the doorknob to his and Minghao’s shared room. Seokmin poked his head out of his room, across the hallway, and smiled a bit at Junhui. Jun pushed the door open, and closed it silently behind him, switching his jeans and sweatshirt for a more favorable boxers and long sleeved shirt combo. He rolled his sleeves up and hesitantly drew the covers back, climbing into bed and lying as far as he could from Minghao’s sleeping form. He admired Minghao’s angelic features from a bit of a distance, not wanting to ruin the serenity of the moment. The younger probably didn’t even want to see Junhui at the moment, let alone talk to him. He sighed, and rolled onto his back, feeling the edge of the mattress cutting into the side of his shoulder. Enough to be noticable, but not enough to throw him off balance. He stared up at the ceiling, at the little glow in the dark stars they had both rearranged into constellations when they first moved into the same room together. 

He put his arm behind his head and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to prevent the tears that returned for some reason. He gasped softly, attempting to properly fill his lungs, and heard a stir beside him, immediately trying to pretend he was asleep.

“Junhui?” Minghao asked, his voice small, and Jun’s heart clenched. He flipped onto his side and opened his eyes, locking gazes with the other man lying with him.

“I’m so sorry, Hao” He apologized, the words rolling off of his tongue with no need to think or calculate a reason why. He just knew. “I’m sorry for shutting myself out. I’m sorry for being such a fucking bad boyfriend. I’m sorry we never talk, I’m sorry I spend all of my time alone. I’m sorry” He spoke nearly in one breath, trying to get all of the words he could out. He had so much to apologize for, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to say it all in less than an hour. Minghao smiled, reaching up and resting his hand on Junhui’s jaw.

“It’s okay” He whispered, and Junhui put his hand on top of Minghao’s. “I’ll always forgive you, Junhui.”

Jun couldn’t stop another tear from rolling down his face, dripping onto the sheets below him. Minghao pushed himself up and kissed Jun’s cheek, underneath his eye. He then kissed the tip of Junhui’s nose, and finally his mouth. Jun reached out and wrapped his arms around Minghao, holding him as close as he could.

“Just, please tell me you’ll try” He mumbled after a brief silence, and Jun smiled a bit, squeezing Minghao.

“I promise.”

“That you’ll always make time to try and talk to me?” Minghao requested, and Junhui nodded.

“Always”

-=+=-

“The8, watch the rooftops” Jihoon’s voice leaked through Minghao’s earpiece, and he looked down at the screen of his laptop, maneuvering the drone so he could get a good look at the top of the buildings surrounding the area Hansol had to go meet a new client in.

“Got it” He replied after he had a reasonable position. 

“Good. Hosh, how’s it looking from below?”

“All clear” Soonyoung answered after a split second. Minghao adjusted how he was sitting so his leg didn’t cramp up, and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Watch the top of the bank, there’s a sniper on the…” He glanced at the compass on the screen. “Northwest corner” 

He shifted the robot again, swiveling the camera and zooming in.

“Wait, nevermind, that’s DK. Move along” He snorted, and flew the drone upwards, moving it next to Seokmin and touching down. Seokmin looked over at the camera and waved with two fingers, turning his attention back to the scope of his rifle. 

“I hate all of you” Seungcheol’s voice offered. It had been a week and a half since he arrived home, and this was his first time leaving the house since his little bullet incident. 

“Hey, Coups. How’s life as the designated driver?” Mingyu piped up, and Minghao stifled a laugh as the drone took off again, this time circling around the building for another pass.

“You’re still out of it, Coups. Just wait like two more weeks and you’ll be back in the thick of the action” Seungkwan joked, and a deep sigh came from Seungcheol. 

“Oh shit, cop in front of the building, Vernon can’t come out with a gun strapped to his thigh with this fucker lingering around” Jihoon mumbled angrily, and Minghao smirked.

“I got it, Woozi” He answered, steering the drone towards the police officer, who caught sight of it and curiously started walking in the direction of the device. He steered it away from the building, and the cop followed it for three blocks before giving up and turning left, going on his normal patrols.

“Nice job, man” Seokmin mumbled, so quietly Minghao could barely hear him through the earpiece. 

“Yo, Hotshot, what’s your view look like?” Chan asked Mingyu, who went silent for a moment.

“I’m all clear, nothing abnormal” He responded.

Minghao went over all of the code names in his head, making sure he had them all right. 

Hansol was Vernon  
Soonyoung was Hoshi  
Seokmin was DK  
Jihoon was Woozi  
Chan was Dino  
Seungcheol was S. Coups  
Mingyu was Hotshot  
Wonwoo was Recluse  
Seungkwan was Ghost  
Junhui was Madman  
And he was The8

It occurred to him that quite a few of the code names were insults. Oh well. He pursed his lips and continued flying the drone around, eyes glued to the screen. All seemed to be going smoothly, exactly as planned. 

“Here comes Vernon, at the ready” Jihoon instructed, and the only thing to be heard through the earpieces was the occasional breath. He shifted the drone so he could see the exit, indeed confirming that he was completely unscathed.

“No visible injuries, no escorts. It seems to have gone well.” Minghao was the first to break the silence.

A sigh of relief came from someone, most likely Seungkwan. Minghao flew the drone upwards, swiveling the camera to look at the surroundings once again. The camera trailed on a sniper, and he assumed it was Seokmin, following the line of the barrel- right to another sniper. He zoomed in on the one being aimed at, and realized that was Seokmin, not the one doing the aiming.

“DK, watch out!” He warned, and saw Seokmin immediately pick his head up and look around, his eyes falling on the barrel a few rooftops away. He pointed his gun in that direction, and Minghao heard a gunshot rip through the air. He saw the other sniper collapse, blood pooling around his skull. 

“That’s a nice gun” he mumbled to himself, flying the drone over to inspect it. Then he saw the small red light on the side, and decided against mentioning it to anyone else. It likely had a tracker on it, if it belonged to some sort of agency. 

“DK, you okay?” Soonyoung asked, and Seokmin reassured him that he hadn’t been the one getting shot at.

“That’s a wrap folks, let’s get home” Seungcheol chirped, the sound of a car engine roaring in Minghao’s ears before Seungcheol muted his mic. Minghao stood up and pushed the door to the outside open, looking back at the abandoned office building and walking into the street, stopping and steering his drone down to himself. He closed the lid of the laptop and tenderly held the drone, walking back to Wonwoo’s car and opening the passenger side door rather awkwardly, sliding into the seat and laying his belongings down on his lap. Wonwoo rapped the steering wheel, looking over at the console and turning on the radio, the volume down low. After a few minutes, Mingyu, Seungkwan, and Seokmin found themselves squeezed in the backseat.

“I always question why I don’t take my bike” Seokmin huffed, moving his leg so he wasn’t pressed entirely against Mingyu, who was awkwardly trapped between the two smaller men.

“Why is the skinniest in the front?” Seungkwan whined, and Minghao flipped him off.

“First come first serve” Wonwoo mumbled, and Minghao smiled.

“Plus, I have valuable cargo~” he replied in a singsong voice, holding the drone up.

“That bitch probably costs more than everything you own” Seungkwan narrowed his eyes, meeting Minghao’s teasing gaze in the rear view mirror.

“Good thing Junhui made it for me then” 

-=+=-

“Why do you make cool things for Minghao, huh?? I need a laser scope!” Soonyoung whined sarcastically, his torso bent over the couch so his fingertips could touch the floor. His beer was sitting on the desk next to him, one of god knows how many. Junhui pressed a kiss to the top of Minghao’s head, seeing as he was standing behind the spot on the couch the younger was sitting on, and smiled a bit.

“Because he’s my boyfriend and y’all are annoying” He had a slight slur, but then again almost half of the people in the room did. Minghao tipped his head back so he could look up at Junhui and pat his cheek.

“Bed?” He asked quietly, and Jun nodded, pushing himself up from where he had been leaning against the sofa. Minghao, one of the only sober people in the house, stood up and took Junhui’s hand, quietly leading him into their room. He pushed the door closed and squeaked when Junhui took his waist and pressed his lips against the back of Minghao’s neck. 

“Jun, you’re drunk” he tried to reach back and push him away, but his strength failed when Jun gently bit down on the side of his neck. He released a feathery breath, bordering on a whine, and Junhui’s grip on his waist tightened a bit, his fingers digging into Minghao’s skin. 

“You’re so pretty” Jun mumbled against Minghao’s neck, who practically melted against the other. He almost screamed when Jun hooked an arm behind his knees and picked him up, walking across the room and laying him down on their mattress. He pulled his shirt off and straddled Minghao’s hips, sitting back on his thighs.

“Jun, I don’t think-“

“I’m not that drunk, Minghao” he mumbled, sliding a hand up the younger’s abdomen, hiking his shirt up.

“I don’t…” Minghao started, and Junhui immediately pulled his hand back, listening.

“I don’t want to.. not yet” he shook his head, and Junhui nodded, leaning down and pressing his lips to Minghao’s briefly.

“Of course, love, whatever you want” he smiled, standing up and grabbing the tank top he slept in from the chair on his side of the bed, abandoning his jeans and flopping beside Minghao. The younger sat up and rubbed his eyes, changing quickly and rejoining his boyfriend in bed. Jun opened his arms and Minghao gladly cuddled against his chest, feeling the warmth soak into his bones. Ever since Junhui had apologized two weeks ago, he spent every extra minute he could at Minghao’s side. Admittedly, Minghao couldn’t be happier.

-=+=-

Seungcheol stood on his toes to reach a pan that Mingyu had, for some reason, put on the top shelf. He winced and fell back onto his heels, pressing the heel of his hand to his chest and leaning on the counter with his other hand. He considered asking Mingyu to help, but then remembered that most of everyone had left to do various things, including the giant.

“Seungcheol, you okay?” He heard from behind him, and immediately straightened up, nodding.

“Yeah, I’m fine” He mumbled, turning around to face whoever was talking. Jihoon was standing in the main entryway, which had view into the kitchen. His hair was slightly ruffled up, and Seungcheol could see a faint bruise on the side of his neck. He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh shut up” Jihoon snorted. 

“Who?” Seungcheol asked, not wishing to meddle too much in Jihoon’s sex life.

“Park Chanyeol” he sighed, and Seungcheol nodded.

“It was a side thing, no strings attached. He likes some other guy anyways” Jihoon added hastily, and Seungcheol laughed.

“You upset about that?” He asked again, and Jihoon shook his head no.

“Just needed a distraction. The bastard’s too tall for my taste anyways” Jihoon pursed his lips, sliding his shoes off and leaving them in the pile by the door, tossing his coat on the many hooks, also by the door.

“I know Minghao can give you a turtle neck if you need one once he gets back” Seungcheol pointed out, and Jihoon nodded, wandering back down through hall towards his and Chan’s shared room. 

Jeonghan entered the room as Jihoon left, and Seungcheol hastily turned back around, walking over to the fridge for literally no reason.

“Jihoon has a… partner?” He asked cautiously, and Seungcheol shook his head.

“He sleeps around. Not too big of a commitment guy” he answered, and Jeonghan nodded, rubbing his arm and nodding. 

“I never asked, does your gang have a name?” Jeonghan wondered aloud, and Seungcheol tensed up a bit. 

“Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“Seventeen. Or SVT. Whichever you prefer.” He sighed, slamming the fridge closed.

“Why? There are only 11 of you” Jeonghan furrowed his eyebrows, and Seungcheol cringed.

“There used to be 17.” He hissed, and Jeonghan’s face fell.

“Oh. Sorry” he mumbled, and Seungcheol relaxed.

“It’s fine. It’s just a touchy subject.”

They both fell silent, and Seungcheol sighed.

“Chan didn’t used to be the youngest” he blurted out, and Jeonghan’s expression somehow became a bid sadder. “Yoon Sahna. Same surname as you. Would have turned 21 this year.” He put a hand on his forehead and closed his eyes. He felt Jeonghan’s hand on his shoulder, and gently pushed it away. 

“I’m fine” he lied, looking down at his socks.

“Cheol, it can’t have been your fault” Jeonghan tried to reassure him, and he shot a glare at the man.

“The seven of us were on a deal, I was the one that went inside. I was stupid, and young. They tied me down and made me watch as they drug them in one by one. Not a single one of them was still breathing, except Sahna. He was so… so small. Only 16. They… they left him to bleed out. I was so scared. I ran, I couldn’t go back. I didn’t even try to save him!” He snapped, and slammed the side of his fist into the counter. He was tense, his fist was clenched. But his eyes looked sad. 

Jeonghan pulled Seungcheol forward into a hug, patting his back. He could feel Seungcheol breathing, his heartbeat fluttering against Jeonghan’s shoulder. He rubbed Seungcheol’s back, who finally reached out and pushed him away.

“Why do you keep avoiding me?” Jeonghan asked, and Seungcheol’s lips parted slightly.

“Why do you keep trying to talk to me like everything is fine? I got you kidnapped, for fuck’s sake, Jeonghan. You should hate me” he retorted, sounding just as accusatory.

“But you came to get me, didn’t you?” Jeonghan replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “We live together, Seungcheol. We should be at least on speaking terms. Even if one of us doesn’t think we should be” 

Seungcheol rubbed his eyes, groaning.

“Fine. Formalities at best. For now, at least.”

Jeonghan nodded, trying his best not to show any sort of disappointment. 

Seungcheol pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed it to his ear, leaving Jeonghan standing in the middle of the kitchen in silence. 

“Seriously? Fuck, man, it’s only Woozi, DK, Hoshi, and I” he stood up straight, adjusting his grey jeans and walking back towards his room. Jeonghan considered going after him, but decided against it. 

“GET YOUR ASSES UP WE GOT TROUBLE” Seungcheol called, and there were small sounds of stirring and drawers almost immediately. Jihoon jogged into the main room, in the process of pulling a jacket on with one hand and holding a rifle that looked far too big for him in the other. Soonyoung and Seokmin followed afterwards, Seokmin fitting a thin Kevlar vest over his torso. Jeonghan didn’t question it at this point. He then pulled a black sweatshirt over top of it and threw a glance at Seungcheol’s door. The leader emerged momentarily, shoving a pistol into his belt and holding what Jeonghan assumed was a shotgun. Jeonghan narrowed his eyes at the fact they were all wearing shoes in the middle of the house. 

“Can I come?” He asked after a split-second decision.

“If you want to get caught up in a fun fight, sure” Seungcheol answered while sliding a ring onto his finger, clenching and unclenching his fist. Jeonghan jogged into his and Seungcheol’s room, grabbing his pistol out of his closet, as well as some extra ammunition. He pulled his shoes on begrudgingly and threw on a black top, walking back out into the main room. Soonyoung whistled mockingly.

“Joining a gang now, Hannie?” He joked, and Jeonghan threw him a glare, setting his glasses down on the kitchen table.

“Cheol, you sure you should be overworking yourself?” Jihoon asked, and Seungcheol shrugged.

“I’ll live”

-=+=-

“You know how to ride?” Seungcheol asked, and Jeonghan nodded.

“I learned a year ago” he mumbled, and Seungcheol tossed him a key.

“Take Chan’s bike, the mostly blue one with Kawasaki on the bottom” he instructed, pointing to the vehicle. Jeonghan nodded and walked over, having been forced to secure his weapon to his waist a minute earlier. He heard a few engines starting up, and sat down on the bike, turning the key in the ignition.

-

Seungcheol looked over at Jeonghan, who was easily cruising along with them. Despite what he wanted to believe, Jeonghan had grown. Even though he was an adult, he had developed into somewhat of a more independent person. He could ride a motorcycle, even. He didn’t have to sit behind someone anymore. Seungcheol pursed his lips and thought about getting Jeonghan a bike. He pulled to the front and took a sharp right, entering the taboo sector of the city. A child holding his mother’s hand pointed at the gun slung across Jihoon’s back, but the mother just picked the child up and walked faster in the opposite direction. Seungcheol’s hair was pushed back by the wind. None of them were wearing helmets, where they were going they would be merely liabilities. He look at the street signs, hearing gunfire in the distance and pulling into the parking lot of a gas station. He got off of his bike and grabbed his shotgun, putting his key in his pocket and tapping his foot. 

The 5 of them stood in a loose semicircle, Seungcheol at the center of their attention.

“We got a call from Junmyeon, leader of EXO. Even though we don’t have many people, we’re still gonna help. You know what I always say, live free, die young” he finished off, and three of the listeners nodded, looking like they did this every other day. Jeonghan, on the other hand, seemed to hold no emotions. He wasn’t shaking, his breathing was even, his face was a clean slate.

“You can drop back here if you need to” Jihoon told the newbie, who nodded as they walked, the gunfire sounding like it was coming from right beside them at this point.

Seungcheol raised his hand, and they paused. He looked over his shoulder and smirked. 

Seokmin and Seungcheol immediately moved to the front, and slid around the corner. Jihoon and Soonyoung followed afterwards, leaving Jeonghan standing in the middle of the sidewalk with a lethal weapon in his hands. He waited a moment before stepping out, and looked upon the scene unfolding before him. Seokmin raised his pistol and fired off a shot, startling Jeonghan. He immediately flicked the safety off on his pistol. For some reason, to him, being here amid all of the gunfire, it felt natural. He looked around, realizing that the hypothetical ‘bad guys’ all had green ribbons around their wrists. How convenient.

“It’s because they don’t work together normally” Jihoon pointed out, wiggling one of the ribbons between his fingers. Jeonghan nodded and walked closer to the house the majority of the gunfire seemed to be centered around. Seokmin ran ahead and pulled a knife out of his belt, seeming eager to jump into the action. Jeonghan hung back a little bit, trying to cover, liked he’d seen some guys do in movies. He wasn’t the most experienced in a firefight after all. Someone ran out of the building, holding a radio in hand. Their sleeve slid down, and Jeonghan saw a green ribbon. He cautiously aimed the barrel of his gun in the woman’s direction, who hadn’t noticed him yet. She raised the radio and started speaking.

“We need backup!” She hissed, and whoever was on the other side of the radio replied with 

“Where?”

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes and squeezed the trigger. The woman went down in a heap. He lowered the gun and looked at his hands, blinking rapidly and glancing back at the body of the woman. She was most surely dead.

“Good job, newbie” Jihoon grinned, aiming into the window of the house and firing off a shot.

“I just killed someone” Jeonghan responded, seeming a bit panicked.

“Yeah, you did” Jihoon nodded, and slammed the heel of his shoe into the head of some guy who had started moving. 

“Why don't I feel bad?” He asked, his voice getting a bit louder. Jihoon smirked.

“Welcome to the end of the rest of your life, hon!” he had to shout over the sound of glass breaking. Jeonghan slowly smiled and the grip on his gun tightened. He could get used to this.

-

Seungcheol slammed the butt of his shotgun against the guy’s skull, who collapsed promptly. He quickly abandoned the shotgun, which was out of ammo, and switched to his pistol, the weight familiar in his hands. There was a full throb on the right side of his chest, but nothing unbearable. He pushed open the back door, and almost slammed directly into Kim Jongin (Kai, he reminded himself). The taller saluted Seungcheol jokingly. A shorter- albeit much more dangerous looking- man followed him, blood that Seungcheol suspected was not his flecked across his cheek. He look ahead into the house, where Seokmin was standing, having entered through the front.

“Was that?” He asked, and Seokmin nodded.

“Kyungsoo? Innocent theoretical physics student? Yeah, turns out he’s pretty thorough with a shotgun at point-blank” Seokmin looked like he was halfway between laughing and crying. 

Seungcheol raised his eyebrows and nodded, not sure how to take the new information. Oh well. He shrugged and pointed upstairs, giving Seokmin a “stay here” look and bounding up the stairs. He put a bullet into some dude’s brain when he rounded the corner, and planted his foot, twisting to make sure that he was all clear. Big mistake. 

His breath caught in his throat, pain ripping through his torso. He put his hand to the partially-healed bullet wound, his fingers coming away red. 

“F-fuck” he stuttered, staggering and putting his hand to the wall for support. The fight seemed mostly over- there were a few stray gunshots a bit of a distance away. Nothing glaringly close anymore. 

Everything settled into a tense silence. There was no more gunfire, only Seungcheol’s own pained breathing in his ears. He scrunched up his face and squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. At least he wasn’t coughing up blood this time. Somehow, he had ripped the stitches on the bullet wound, but not re-opened the wound in his lung, which was fine by him. He half-stumbled down the steps, shoving his gun into his belt. 

“Seokmin?!” Soonyoung’s panicked voice dug into his heart, and he somehow found the energy to go a bit faster. He emerged on the bottom floor, and made his way out the front door, where Soonyoung was fretting over Seokmin, who was on the ground with his facial expression screaming “this fucking sucks”.

“Where’d you get hit?” Soonyoung demanded, and Seokmin gestured to his entire torso.

“I’m fine, Soon. Maybe a cracked rib- maybe” he sighed, and pushed himself into a sitting position. Seungcheol looked around, laying eyes on a small group of 9 standing or sitting in a small group. He made his way in that direction, noticing some nursing their own or other’s injuries. He recognized all of them, having done business with the group before, and now having a mental image of Kyungsoo. The odd thing about EXO was the fact that only a few of them chose to use fake names, the rest threw around their identities freely.

Sehun was sitting cross-legged near the center of the group, poking ants with a stick. Kai (Jongin) and Kyungsoo (did he have a fake name?) we’re standing facing each other, talking quietly. Sure enough, Kyungsoo was holding a shotgun leisurely with one hand, the barrel pointing at the ground. Xiumin (Minseok) and Chen (Jongdae) were both nursing their own injuries, leaning with their backs against each other. Chanyeol was talking to Baekhyun, who only seemed interested in getting the blood off of his shirt. Lay (Yixing) was looking at his phone, disinterested in everything else going on around him.

Seungcheol looked at Junmyeon, who walked a few steps so they were next to each other.

“Thanks, Coups” he sighed, and Seungcheol raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, Suho” He mumbled, and Junmyeon whacked his arm.

“What, ever since Kris went your name went with him?” Seungcheol narrowed his eyes, and Junmyeon glared at him.

“You want me to bring up haunting members, hm?” He asked, and Seungcheol shook his head quickly.

“Sorry I couldn’t bring the whole gang” Seungcheol gestured to his makeshift small group standing a bit away. 

“It’s fine- hey, you’re all bloody, you get hit or something?” Junmyeon tilted his head, and Seungcheol shrugged.

“A while back, yeah, just ripped the stitches” 

Junmyeon nodded in understanding, and looked over at Seungcheol’s group.

“Didn’t you say you only had 3 others? I count 4”

“Oh, yeah. See the only pretty one, with the longer hair? He tagged along. He’s kinda new” Seungcheol pointed Jeonghan out, but didn’t use the younger’s name. 

“We’re gonna hit it” Junmyeon sighed, and Seungcheol waved, walking slowly back to his group. 

Seokmin was back on his feet, with Soonyoung gripping his waist like Seokmin would fly away if he let go. The smaller had a frown on his face. Jihoon was standing there quietly, looking over at the trashed house with bullet holes peppering the siding. Jeonghan seemed just as at-ease, surprisingly.

“You good?” Seungcheol directed the question at Jeonghan, who nodded.

“That was exhilarating, to say the least” he pushed his hair behind his ear, and Seungcheol raised his eyebrows.

“You’re not freaked out? No trauma? Did you even do anything?” 

“Dude, he killed like 5 people” Jihoon cut in, and Seungcheol’s eyes widened a bit.

“And he’s completely fine?” He asked, amazed. Jeonghan smiled at him.

“Alright, Angel” Seungcheol grinned, and Jeonghan nodded approvingly.

“Surprised you remembered” he mumbled, and Seungcheol clicked his tongue.

“I always do”

Seungcheol clapped his hands together, doing his best not to pay attention to the blood running down his chest beneath his shirt.

“You ready to go?” He asked, and Jihoon nodded.

“Ready to rock and roll, boss”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this isn’t very plot-ish (then again none of my chapters are, sue me) but I needed to draw Jeonghan into the action. Also instead of Verkwan this chapter, I gave you some Junhao because fluff is essential. Sorry it’s so short, I’ve decided to do shorter, more frequent chapters for the sake of my own sanity. I’ve pretry much been writing nonstop, but school exists, so it might drag on just a little bit more now, but it shouldn’t be TOO bad. For now, my chapters will be like 6k-10k words instead of the enormous chapter I had in the beginning (there were 31k words in only two chapters- I was dying inside). If you guys would prefer longer, more spaced out chapters, feel free to let me know! Thanks for reading!


	4. Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !ANGST WARNING!

Seungcheol dug through the bathroom for medical supplies- finding nothing but spongebob band-aids that could hardly cover a paper cut. He scrunched up his nose and pushed the door open slowly, making his way into the laundry room, where he knew they kept stuff. After all, he had been the one to put said stuff there. When he entered the room, he grabbed the gauze and one of the small first aid kits, spinning on his heel to make his way back to his room, almost running head-first into Jeonghan.

“Cheol, why are you carrying medical supplies?” He asked, tapping his foot impatiently. The fabric of the man’s sock made muffled thumping noises against the hardwood.

“Uh, the bathroom’s out?” It sounded more like a question than an answer, and Jeonghan grabbed Seungcheol’s wrist, dragging him back into their shared room and shoving him onto his own bed.

“Shirt off, buttercup” he sneered, his so-called ‘mom face’ back in full swing. 

Seungcheol sighed, clearly not in a fighting mood, and started to pull his shirt off, cringing as the skin around the wound stretched slightly. Jeonghan immediately pushes his arms back down and crawled onto the bed himself, sitting in front of Seungcheol and pulling the older’s shirt off for him. Seungcheol found himself forcing down a heat that threatened to decorate his cheeks.

“See, not that bad, I’m good to go!” He exclaimed quickly, shifting towards the edge of his bed.

In a split second, he found himself pinned back into the mattress, Jeonghan straddling his hips to keep him in place. The younger calmly started cleaning the dry blood off of Seungcheol’s chest with no regard for how he made the other react. 

“Is this really necessary?” Seungcheol asked, slinging an arm over his eyes.

“Absolutely. Can’t have the big bad leader with a hole in his chest, can we?” Jeonghan teased, and Seungcheol snorted, unable to help a smile from spreading across his face. The younger’s cloth, which practically materialized out of deep space (where the hell did it come from?) dug into his skin a bit more, and he hissed in pain. 

“What the fuck, Jeonghan?” He asked, opening his eyes to glare up at him. Jeonghan smiled apologetically, but didn’t let up the pressure. Seungcheol sat up, grabbing Jeonghan’s wrists. He then realized that Jeonghan was now sitting on his lap. He flushed and released Jeonghan’s wrists, immediately leaning back so not to invade either of their personal space. Jeonghan managed a small smile and relaxed, for some reason not moving.

“Can we talk, Cheol?” He asked, tilting his head slightly. Seungcheol nodded, trying to pay attention to Jeonghan’s intent expression.

“I know that it’s been a long time but… I know there was something between us.” Jeonghan exhaled, and Seungcheol tensed up a bit. Was Jeonghan just gonna completely deny what had happened? Ask him to forget it? 

“I was wondering if… maybe… you wanted to try again” he finished at barely a whisper, and Seungcheol nearly choked on air.

“Why- why would you want that?” He asked after he collected himself, and Jeonghan narrowed his eyes.

“Have I not already explained this? I like danger” he chided, placing a hand gingerly on Seungcheol’s shoulder. 

“Now you’re as dangerous as I am” Seungcheol pointed out, and Jeonghan shrugged.

“Plus, sometimes you’re okay to look at” Jeonghan giggled, slipping both hands behind Seungcheol’s neck and lacing his fingers. 

“Gee, thanks” Seungcheol glared at him, and Jeonghan just snorted.

“Just a one time thing?” Seungcheol then asked cautiously, his tone suddenly shifting to a bit of a more somber sound. 

“This time, I think it might last a bit longer.”

-=+=-

Jisoo pulled the covers up over his chest and sunk into his mattress, grateful for a moment of silence. These days, all of his free time (moreso time between calls) was spent sleeping. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, not even caring that he had forgotten to turn the lights off. 

Just then, his phone rang. He groaned and grabbed it off the table, tapping the ‘accept’ button and pressing the device to his ear.

“Dr. Hong, I was calling to say-“

“That you need me in the hospital? Yeah I’ll be there in 15.” He interrupted, already beginning to climb out of bed.

“No, sir. We were calling to tell you that the papers came through, and we’re granting you 4 month paid leave starting Friday.” The voice finished, and Jisoo nearly dropped his phone.

“What?” He asked, blinking and pushing his hair out of his face.

“After your scheduled surgery Friday, you’re free to go home and adjust to a family life” the person laughed, and he heaved a sigh of relief.

“So, like, paternity leave? I didn’t think that was offered “ he joked, and a small laugh came from the other side of the line.

“Yeah, well, soon-to-be dads raising a child alone need their time off too” they responded, and the line shut off, signifying the end of the call. He pursed his lips and looked around his spacious, lonely home. It could easily fit a normal family comfortably, yet he was living alone.

For now.

This coming Saturday, three days from now, he was picking Daejung up from his temporary foster home. Everything was all in place- all of the legal forms were already completed, he had already read close to 7 books on parenting, already talked to someone at a daycare. He felt prepared, oddly. The only thing he didn’t feel prepared enough to do was call himself a father. 

He had battled with himself in his brain for a week about the fact that he really shouldn’t be raising a kid alone, he was hardly home for god’s sake. 

The phone rang again. 

He raised it to his ear and shook his head.

“Now?” He asked.

“Yeah, sorry Doctor Hong.” The same voice mumbled, and he made a mildly annoyed sound. 

“No problem, I’ll be there in 15.”

-

Of course, he just had to have a heart transplant scheduled Friday. And of course, something had to go wrong. All in all, it was Saturday when he walked out of that room, and he felt just about ready to pass out. Despite his urge to fall asleep on the floor, he decided on getting some food first.

“Jisoo!” A familiar voice called, and he turned to face Dr. Stahl.

“Keren, how are you?” He smiled politely, and she pulled him into a hug.

“I’m doing great, actually. I get to take over for you while you’re out being a dad”

He rolled his eyes, but a small laugh escaped his lips. She really did act like his mother sometimes.

“Have you eaten yet? Please tell me you’ve slept in the past 24 hours” 

Speaking of being motherly.

He shook his head, regarding both of those options. He hasn’t left the hospital since his emergency call on Wednesday, considering things just kept piling up. Why did people always somehow get injured in the chest and disrupt his peace?

She grabbed his wrist and drug him to the cafeteria, plopping him down at one of the tables and marching off towards the line, not before a  
“Stay here” and a stern glare. He checked his phone. It was 9am, a reasonable time for a reasonable person to be awake. He unlocked the device and called Jeonghan, desperate to hear a friendly voice.

“Hello?” He asked, still sounding a bit groggy. He heard the rustling of bedsheets in the background.

“Jeonghan, how are you? Still settling into your new life?” 

“Oh, Jisoo. I’m fine, yeah.” Jisoo could imagine his sleepy smile and bedhead, having seen it countless times. “It’s all going well, actually.”

A small, distant voice somehow reached the speaker, and Jisoo’s eyebrows shot up.

“Hannie~” He cooed, and heard a muffled  
“Shit.” Followed by “no, not you, Cheol, go back to sleep” all go which seemed to come from Jeonghan.

“Oh my god, Yoon Jeonghan! You seriously got with Seungcheol?” He chuckled, the little hum of affirmation, somewhat laced with pride, making his smile grow a bit. 

“Sure did. He’s a cuddlebug too.”

Jisoo played with his nametag, his smile refusing to lessen. Even when Jeonghan hadn’t been speaking to Seungcheol in the two years after their so-called incident, the younger had frequently had to sit through Jeonghan’s little spill sessions about the man. He was happy that Jeonghan had finally worked up the fucking guts to do something. 

“Anything else I should know about?” He joked, and there was a prolonged pause on the other line.

“Hannie, what did you do?” He asked after a few seconds, and Jeonghan sighed.

“I went with them on one of their ‘missions’”

“And?”

“Jisoo, I went with them! To a gunfight!” He hissed, and Jisoo was the one to pause this time.

“So you joined a gang. That’s what you did” Jisoo pointed out.

“Yeah, I guess. It’s not that bad, Jisoo.”

“I trust you. You can make your own decisions, even if they’re murderous. I just hope you’re never the one coming through the emergency room entrance.” He rubbed his forehead, leaning forwards onto his elbow.

“I’m still me, Jisoo. No matter what, I’m still your friend, okay?”

“Yeah, I get that, Jeonghan. Because of that, though, how do you feel about being an emergency nanny?”

-

Jisoo stopped the car in front of the house just at the outskirts of the city, glancing in his rear view mirror at the car seat in the back of the vehicle. He was really doing this. He opened the door and stepped out onto the street, shoving his car keys into his pocket as he closed the door. He pulled on the edge of his white button-up, deciding to unbutton the top one so he didn’t look to stuffy and formal. The black flowery outlines on the lower half of the front didn’t make it look to business-like, but he still rolled his sleeves up to his elbows just to be safe. His black jeans hugged his legs, the converse he had on also doing a terrific job of making him look more like a college student than a surgeon in the cardiothoracic department in likely the most respected hospital in the city of Seoul. 

He walked up to the front door, worrying the fabric of his shirt between his fingers as he raised his free hand to knock on the door. His knuckles rapped against the material, making a louder noise than he expected. 

The door opened, a middle-aged woman standing in the doorway with a motherly smile. 

“Hello, ma’am” he bowed respectfully, folding his hands in front of him. 

“You must be Hong Jisoo?” Her eyes twinkled as he stood up, and he got the feeling she was inspecting him despite the fact they had spoken on the phone numerous times.

He nodded, confirming her question, and she stepped away from the doorway, welcoming him inside. He stepped in and slid his shoes off, leaning them in the pile of shoes by the door and following her further into the house.

“Daejung!” She called, and the four year old came running into the room, practically bouncing off the walls. “We just had lunch” she looked over her shoulder, explaining to Jisoo why he was acting like a jumping bean. He nodded, smiling at Daejung and quietly waiting for the child to notice he was there. After a few seconds, Daejung turned his attention to Jisoo, throwing his arms around the man. 

“I told you I’d be back, didn’t I?” He laughed, crouching down and letting Daejung wrap his arms around his neck. He stood up, putting one arm underneath the boy so he wouldn’t fall.

“Are you out of college?” The woman asked, looking him up and down.

“Yes, ma’am, I’m 31.” He smiled, and her lips parted.

“You’re very young-looking” she added on in her own defense, and he shrugged. 

“Thanks.”

Daejung wiggled and tugged on Jisoo’s ear, giggling.

“Woah-“ he pushed Daejung’s hand away and set the child down, letting him run off somewhere else into the house. 

“On all of your papers it says you’re a doctor?” She asked, magically having a packet in her hand. 

He nodded. “I’m a cardiothoracic surgeon, actually.” He added on, and she glanced up, not seeming to care all too much. She handed him a few pieces of paper, paper clipped together. She quickly explained what was included, and he nodded along. 

“If you have any questions, now’s the time to ask” she mumbled, and he shook his head.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He bowed his head, and the woman smiled.

“You’re going to be a good father”

-=+=-

Jeonghan opened his eyes drowsily, a comforting warmth pressing up against his back. He carefully twisted himself around to face Seungcheol, who was still fast asleep, and cuddled a bit closer to his chest. The older’s grip of Jeonghan’s waist tightened slightly, and Jeonghan smiled to himself. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of Seungcheol’s jaw and cautiously pulled himself away from the embrace, his feet hitting the carpet. He stretched his arms above his head and rolled his shoulders, grabbing one of Seungcheol’s long-sleeves shirts from the closet and changing into it, throwing his t-shirt into the dresser he kept his clothes in and wandering out into the hallway. 

“Morning, Han” Mingyu chirped from the kitchen, holding some sort of pan, with an assortment of ingredients spread out all over the counter. 

“Hey Mingyu” he gave the taller a tired smile, who looked him up and down.

“Cheol treating you right?” He asked, indicating Jeonghan’s choice of attire. Jeonghan felt his face head up, and he spluttered.

“W-we haven’t-!” He sighed, and then continued. “I just stole his shirt cause it’s comfy. But he’s been nothing but sweet to me” 

Mingyu nodded, seeming to approve.

“At first he seems a little cold… he’s a real softie if you treat him well though.” He mumbled, turning his attention back to the pan and placing it on the stove, turning the dial. Jeonghan nodded this time, sinking onto one of the stools that was tucked under the ledge of the counter. 

“Where’s Wonwoo?” 

“Sleeping.”

“Ah.” Jeonghan pursed his lips and pushed his hair back.

“I was thinking about dying my hair blonde. What do you think?” He wondered aloud, and Mingyu pauses for a second to study the dark brown locks.

“If you got it a little shorter, it’d look great on you” he pointed to Jeonghan with the chopsticks he was holding. Jeonghan pursed his lips and picked his phone up from where it had been charging overnight. He opened up Instagram and scrolled through his feed, absent-mindedly liking pictures of people he knew.

“Morning” 

Jeonghan looked up at the new voice, recognizing Minghao walking into the room, in the recess of tying the string on the waistband of his sweatpants. Jeonghan turned his attention to his vibrating phone as a call came through, and accepted, pressing it to his ear.

“Hey, Jeonghan. Want to meet Daejung and I at the park later?” Jisoo’s voice asked, slightly distorted and very obviously sleepy. He thought for a moment, and mapped out his schedule in his head. The only thing in the foreseeable future was writing a letter of resignation and maybe going to the gym.

“Depends. What time? What park? What should I bring to keep a 4 year old happy?” He rattled off a few questions, and Minghao’s head snapped up at the mention of a four year old. He studied the younger boy’s excited expression, not remembering many times when he had expressed much emotion.

“And can Minghao come?” He added on, and Minghao beamed, flicking his hair out of his face and turning on his heel to walk back to his room.

-

Jeonghan thought the weather this time of year was absolutely perfect. Not too cold, not sweltering, not overly dry. A sweet spot. And it only lasted about a month, so it was always best to take advantage of it. He exhaled happily, taking in the scent of flowers as they passed by one of the floral shops. Minghao looked equally as at-ease, his bright yellow shirt contrasting his hair and making him stand out a bit. That kind of behavior wasn’t what he had seen so far from the gang, but he felt that Minghao was just a bit different. 

“You look like a sunflower” Jeonghan pointed out, and suddenly Minghao’s cheeks were dusted with a light flush, a small smile spreading across his face. 

“Who’s sunflower are you?~” Jeonghan teased, not exactly expecting to draw an answer out of the younger.

“Jeonghanie’s sunflower” Minghao begrudgingly blurted out, his face a burning red. Jeonghan clapped his hands together quickly, delight at the response. He stepped off of the sidewalk as they neared the end of the small stands selling things and into the lush grass, sighing contentedly.

“Man, I missed this park” he practically groaned, tempted to squat down and run his fingers through the green stalks. Minghao nodded, seeming to agree. 

The two moved further into the park, eyes peeled for a disoriented surgeon and a 4 year old. Eventually, Minghao pointed to a small pair sitting on a large blanket, turning his gaze to Jeonghan as if to confirm he was pointing at the right people. Jeonghan broke into a jog and kicked his shoes off into the grass, flopping dramatically on top of Jisoo.

“Christ- Jeonghan oh my god!” He hissed, pushing Jeonghan off to the side on top of the blanket instead of himself. The older just as happily curled up on the soft fabric, his hair fanned out in a newly dyed fluff of blonde. The pair had left early to stop by a salon and get Jeonghan’s hair cut and dyed. Jisoo’s eyes widened and he reached out, touching the soft locks and smiling.

“Looks nice” he pointed out, just before Daejung practically tackled him back into the grass. The father made a disgruntled noise, and tickled Daejung’s side, the child bursting into laughter and rolling away. Minghao shyly kneeled down on the side of the blanket, and Daejung immediately walked over to him, reaching his arms out.

“He likes to be picked up, huh?” Jeonghan asked as Minghao picked up the toddler with the utmost care. Jisoo nodded and sat up, reaching out to pull Jeonghan up into a sitting position. The two silently watched Minghao as he adjusted into a more comfortable position and lowered Daejung into his lap. 

“Does he like kids?” Jisoo asked quietly, looking over at Jeonghan.

“I guess” Jeonghan shrugged, leaning back and using the heels of his hands to support himself. 

“How are you holding up?” Jisoo turned to Jeonghan, running a hand through his hair. 

“I’m doing well, actually. How about you? You look tired” 

“I mean, I am, but I won’t be for long. I got paid leave for 4 months, because my boss is awesome” Jisoo grinned, quirking an eyebrow at his friend. 

“So” Jisoo’s tone alone made Jeonghan want to bolt the other direction. “Seungcheol?” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Jeonghan smacked his shoulder, his face and neck flushing. 

“Shut up” He hissed, his voice cracking in the middle of the phrase. Jisoo rolled his eyes and let himself fall back so he was lying down, staring up at the clouds.

“Jeonghan?” Minghao asked quietly, and the man looked up to meet the other’s gaze.

“You majored in psychology, right?” He added on, and Jeonghan nodded. Whenever someone asked that question, it was never good. But Minghao just shrugged and looked back down at Daejung, playing some sort of hand game with him. Jeonghan didn’t recognize the pattern of claps Minghao was teaching the child.

“I learned the game in China” Minghao explained, catching on to Jeonghan’s perplexed expression. Daejung giggled and stood up, running off into the grass. Jisoo immediately popped up to follow his son, a concerned expression flitting across his face.

-=+=-

Nothing was ever supposed to go wrong. Nobody was supposed to get hurt. Wonwoo wasn’t supposed to be forced to watch the exchange of an anguished lover crying and screaming, covered in the blood of someone he had cared for. 

-

_“Hey, Wonwoo, do you want to go out on patrols with two of Junmyeon’s boys?” Seungcheol asked, looking up at the only other person in the room. Wonwoo thought for a moment, and then nodded._

_“Sure. It sounds fun.”_

-

Slowly, the cries died down into violent breaths, seeming to rip their way out out of the man’s throat. Wonwoo cringed with each ragged sound.

-

_“Hey, Wonwoo!” Minseok waved, sporting his signature grin. Wonwoo waved back, walking over to the pair lounging on the hood of their car. A small, red Sedan. Inconspicuous. He’d spoken to these two on prior occasions, and while they could be a bit enthusiastic, they were good men._

-

“He’s not dead, he’s not dead” the trembling man repeated over and over, his hands slick with blood. Wonwoo took a few steps closer, peering over his shoulder at the body on the concrete, one of the overhead lights of the parking lot illuminating the trio (no… duo) perfectly. 

He was dead.

If the gunshot wounds didn’t tell you,

Then the glassy stare did.

-

_“Before we got all caught up in all this EXO stuff, I wanted to be a singer, actually” Jongdae laughed, looking over the side of the seat to the guest in the back of the car._

_“Yeah, and he was pretty fucking good” Minseok pointed out, glancing over at Jongdae before focusing on the road again._

_“Minseok and I, when we met, made this plan. We would work our way back into normal society, and move to Jejudo. Get a house by the water. It wouldn’t be a big house, and it would probably be in disrepair, but that was half of the fun. Renovate it and make it ours, you know? A part of us left on that beach, even after we were long gone.”_

-

Wonwoo reached out and squeezed Minseok’s shoulder, looking around the parking lot. They weren’t alone, he could tell. Minseok wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands, although it didn’t do all too much. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks the instant his hands moved away. Wonwoo pulled the distraught man to his feet, biting his lip as he looked back down at the puddle of blood staining the ground. 

“We have to get out of here” he mumbled frantically, tugging on Minseok’s jacket. The man just fell back down onto his knees, his lips parted and his eyes closed in a pained expression.

“Let them come” he tried to say, but it was hardly understandable through his tears. Wonwoo got the message, but refused to read it properly.

“I’m not leaving you here” He hissed, and Minseok just looked over his shoulder, reaching down and taking Jongdae’s hand, looking back at his lover. He pressed a kiss to Jongdae’s hand, gently setting it down afterwards and falling completely silent.

“Then I guess you’ll die with me”

-

_Jongdae pointed to a parking spot, which Minseok skillfully parallel parked in. The two exited the vehicle, and Wonwoo quickly followed. It was getting close to 1, the sky was dark. Street lights cast glows across the sidewalk periodically. They made their way to an old gas station, chatting quietly among themselves the whole time. When they finally turned their attention towards the destination they were supposed to check out, it was too late to be able to assess the situation. The doors to the gas station opened, despite the lights being off. All three drew their weapons, standing in a triangle to protect each other. From the other side of the street came a short burst of fire, and before they knew it, Jongdae was on the ground. For some reason, the firing stopped immediately._

_Minseok let his weapon fall to the ground, and he dropped to his knees at Jongdae’s side, his fingers pressed against the side of Jongdae’s throat._

-

Wonwoo and Minseok both supported half of Jongdae’s body weight, slowly making their way back to the car. Upon Minseok’s request, they were taking Jongdae back to EXO’s headquarters. Wonwoo didn’t ask why. As they neared the red vehicle, they both heard footsteps behind them. It was impossible to defend themselves like this, though. Wonwoo froze as something pressed into his back, Minseok following suit a moment later. 

“Trying to get away, are we?”

One shot went off.

-=+=-

Seungcheol cracked his knuckles, waiting on the side of the road for Junhui and Mingyu to show up. His hand shifted on the steering wheel as they emerged from the crowd of people headed down the sidewalk, throwing open the back doors of his car and climbing in.

“How goes it?” He asked sarcastically, turning the volume on the radio down to a conversational level. 

“Interesting, to say the least” Mingyu shuddered, snaking a bit of gold glitter out of his hair and… onto Seungcheol’s floor.

“Watch it, sparkles!” Seungcheol yelped, reaching back and smacking Mingyu’s knee. 

“I need to go home and give Wonwoo and nice long hug” He announced, and Junhui nodded in agreement.

The two had gone into a popular nightclub to gather some information on the word in town, and with its reputation, he didn’t doubt the two boys were longing for some simple cuddle time with their respective other halves. He smiled and shook his head, looking at the clock on the dashboard of his car. 

3:30 am. Not too bad, for one of these excursions. Normally, he’d be the one in the club, but he decided to call it quits on that when Jeonghan had expressed his obvious distaste in the nature of the assignment. Seungcheol just supposed be wasn’t used to their methodology quite yet. Instead of him, Junhui had become victim in his place. He had to say, he felt bad for the guy. 

Whenever he had taken up one of these roles, he had somewhat enjoyed himself. He had enjoyed the intoxicating beat of the music, the buzz of alcohol, but he hadn’t enjoyed how cramped and sweaty those places could get. Even if you weren’t doing anything particularly straining, somehow you ended up sweating. No matter what. Mingyu, an experienced veteran, had probably coated himself in antiperspirant deodorant. Junhui, on the other hand, looked like a mess. He would learn, with time.

“Please, no more music” Jun whined, and Seungcheol turned the radio off, pulling out into the street and starting towards home.

“Do you think Wonwoo will be back?” Mingyu asked as they pulled up to the warehouse, the garage slowly opening. 

“Maybe, I know they set off for night patrol like 3 hours ago, so maybe not.” Seungcheol responded, putting the car into park. The two boys walked towards the stairs, and Seungcheol attempted to wipe some of the glitter off of his seats before following suit.

-

Junhui pushed the front door open and nearly sobbed. He was home, finally. After that shitshow at the club, all he wanted to do was curl up with Minghao and forget all of his problems. 

He noticed Mingyu looking around the dorm, staring at the open door to his and Wonwoo’s room. 

“He’s probably still out. He’ll be back soon” Junhui reassured him as he twisted the knob to his own room, and Mingyu nodded, seeming a bit uneasy. Junhui, who didn’t pick up on it, slipped into his room and changed into pajamas. He washed off his face and mused up his hair a bit, walking back into the main room from the small attached bedroom. Minghao’s eyes opened, and he smiled delicately at Junhui. Jun slid under the covers and pulled Minghao into his chest, settling into the mattress and releasing a content sigh. He vaguely heard Seungcheol enter and immediately go to his and Jeonghan’s room, the door closing and sending the house into a welcome silence.

-

Jihoon awoke to an infernal rattling, followed by pounding. 

“OPEN THE FUCK UP!” He heard from the living room, and a door opened somewhere down the hall. He rolled half-heartedly out of bed and looked over at Chan, who was tucked under the covers with his face barely poking out of the fabric cocoon. He looked younger like this, almost like he could fit into an 8th grade classroom without question. Somehow, he was still asleep. Jihoon shuffled to the door and threw it open, making his way down the hall with about as much vigor as a sloth. He rubbed his eyes and fixed his hair to the best of his ability, the distance between the entryway and his room at the end of the hall seeming impossibly long. As he passed by his fellow member’s rooms, he noticed who was in them and who was not. Mingyu and Wonwoo’s room had the door thrown wide open, neither of them inside of the room. Junhui and Minghao’s room was shut tight, along with Soonyoung and Seokmin’s. Seungkwan and Hansol’s door was open, but he recognized Seungkwan curled up on the mattress, the space beside him empty. The same situation with Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s room, except there was merely a lump of blankets be took as Jeonghan dwelling in the bed. He finally approached the front door, and found it odd that there was no noise coming from the entryway, even though 2 or 3 other people, along with whoever the fuck had been knocking, were already there. He rounded the corner and froze, his heart leaping to his throat. Only Mingyu and Seungcheol were in the room, both staring at the newcomer with equally horrified expressions. Wonwoo was nowhere to be found. His eyes traveled to the visitor.

It was Kim Minseok, of EXO.

And he was covered in blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this shitshow, and the cliffhanger. Depending on the reaction I get from both you guys and a few people I know, I’ll decide Wonwoo’s fate. As always, any requests for this story or another or suggestions leave in the comments, and thanks for reading!!!
> 
> P.S: this chapter length might become normal, with longer chapters occasionally. Sorry if that upsets you, also sorry for the delay on this chapter, it took a while to write


	5. With Love, (Wonwoo’s Interlude)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because of the amazing responses I got on the last chapter, this chapter unfolded to be a bit nicer than I had initially intended.

_Minseok heard the shot, and he bolted. He got just far enough to turn the corner and then pressed himself up against the wall, panting. He peeked out from his hiding spot around the corner of the building and swore, continuing on towards where he knew Seventeen’s home base was. There was no way he could have gone back and survived. He didn’t even see what happened to Wonwoo. All he knew was that he couldn’t go up against 5 people himself, regardless of how well he was trained, especially with someone else’s life on the line. If there was even a life to save._

-

Jihoon could sense the tension in the room, even though not a word had been uttered yet. Minseok opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. Mingyu looked close to tears. Seungcheol held his gaze on the newcomer, unwavering.

“Wonwoo…” Minseok finally spoke, and his voice cracked in the middle of the name. “They- I think they shot him and… I got away but I couldn’t go back” he explained, a sort of sadness and regret in his eyes. Mingyu was the first one to move, sitting down on the tile floor and staring at his shaking hands. Minseok gazed down at him, his expression hazy.

-=+=-

Wonwoo wasn’t a stranger to bad situations, but this has to be worst he had encountered. He groaned and let his head fall back against the inside of the van he had been thrown into with no prior warning. Uselessly, he reached out with his good arm and bit his tongue to keep from screaming, trying to open the back doors. His arm fell back to his side, and he slumped down a bit. He didn’t know how long he had been unconscious, it could have been days since he last saw Minseok. Could have been days since he last saw anyone. Even Mingyu. Damn it, Mingyu. What if he never got to say goodbye? If he didn’t see his counterpart again, it seems like it would have all been in vain. No goodbye. He supposed, somehow, that would be better. No opportunity to see the emotions behind Mingyu’s eyes. But, on the contrary, he’d be leaving loose ends. Something he hated to do. 

The door to the back of the van opened, and Wonwoo looked over quickly, eager to know precisely what was going on. A man pulled himself up into the vehicle, and crouched down in front of Wonwoo, surveying the blood-soaked and torn fabric of the boy’s clothes, near the shoulder. None too gently, the man shoved Wonwoo’s bad arm to the side, forcing Wonwoo to the brink of tears, his teeth digging into his lower lip. 

“What I’d give for someone like you around all the time” the man sighed, and stood, walking back towards the two doors.

“But, what your leader’ll give up for you is even better” he smirked, and Wonwoo tensed up, holding eye contact with the man until the doors closed.

What the fuck did they want with Seungcheol? As far as he knew (keep in mind, that wasn’t much) these rats had nothing to do with him or his gang, much less getting something from him. What did they want? A connection? A job? A death wish? Any were possible, but one stood out in Wonwoo’s mind as desirable. 

He shifted and reached out with his ankle, dragging some sort of towel that was on the floor towards himself and picking it up, craning his neck to look at the hole in his shoulder. He reached around to his back, and realized there was no exit wound, panic swelling in his chest. He bit his lip, and closed his eyes, patting down his pockets and finding a small Swiss Army knife. Flicking open the knife portion, he inhaled, and let his mind wander as he brought the metal closer to his own skin.

-=+=-

_Mingyu shifted his hand so he could trace characters on the side of Wonwoo’s arm, a cigarette hanging from between his lips. The older propped himself up on his elbows as a breeze ruffled his hair and stared up at the stars decorating the sky above them. Mingyu tugged at Wonwoo’s sleeve, who begrudgingly laid back down and let the taller pull him a bit closer. In the dark like this, they could barely see 100 feet to either side, but they could see each other. Mingyu could see the way the stars reflected off the glass in Wonwoo’s glasses, the way his eyes danced in their waning light._

_“What’s on your mind?” Mingyu asked after a few more moments of serene silence, flicking the dead cigarette butt away carelessly._

_“A lot..” Wonwoo admitted slowly, wrinkling up his nose as he chose his words with care. “About us. And the sky.”_

_“Do they have a relation?” Mingyu joked, a small grin spreading across his face._

_“Definitely. The sky is infinite, no matter what time of day or the weather. But the best time is at night, really. Especially out here, alone, with only you and me and fading lights.”_

_Mingyu let him sit in silence for a while, knowing him well enough that he could tell all was well._

_“‘I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream’” Mingyu recited after a while, unsure why the quote had popped into his head. He just went with it, turning his head slightly to capture Wonwoo’s reaction with his own two eyes. A faint blush decorated the other’s cheeks, almost glowing on his skin._

_“That was… months ago, I think. I can’t believe you remembered” Wonwoo commented, smiling up at Mingyu. The younger squeezed his shoulder and settled himself so they were both more comfortable._

_“I really do try” Mingyu returned the smile, and Wonwoo reached over with his free hand. Mingyu got the signal, and picked his unoccupied hand up from his side, lacing his fingers with Wonwoo’s._

-=+=-

Kwon Soonyoung truly didn’t expect to be woken up in the middle of the night by Mingyu screaming from the entryway. He rolled out of bed (begrudgingly, seeing as he also had to roll away from Seokmin in the process) and padded towards the entryway. He could see Jihoon’s back from this angle, but not much else. He took a few more steps and peeked around the corner with his head, gazing skeptically upon the scene unfolding before him. Mingyu was sitting on the ground, tears wetting his cheeks, and Seungcheol was trying to comfort him. Who he thought was Minseok was standing just inside of the door, trembling and covered in blood. Soonyoung’s eyebrows shot up, and he silently stepped around Seungcheol and Mingyu, trying to give them some space. He reached out and grabbed the fabric of Minseok’s sleeve, gently tugging him back into the hallway. Minseok, seeming a bit dazed, complied, following him into a large bathroom. Soonyoung gently pulled Minseok’s jacket off of his shoulders and set it down on the counter, disappearing from the room for a brief second before returning with clean clothes in his hands, which he pressed into Minseok’s chest until the older took them, allowing himself to be redirected to a spacious closet to change in.

After a moment, Minseok emerged from the closet, still holding the clean grey shirt.

“I didn’t want to stain it…” He whispered, and Soonyoung pursed his lips, grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet and running warm water over it before wringing it out. He walked over to Minseok and took the shirt from him, tossing it onto the floor for a moment before wiping the dry blood off of the man’s chest, neck, and face, having to work a bit of his hair in the damp fabric before it was clean. Then, Minseok pulled the shirt on, the collar fluffing up his hair as he pulled it over his head. Soonyoung gathered the dirty clothes in his arms and quickly exited the room, coming back a minute later with a black jacket, handing that to Minseok.

“I think they want you back in the main room” Soonyoung sighed, and Minseok nodded emotionlessly, the dark circles under his eyes contrasting with his pale skin in the lighting of the bathroom. He walked out of the room and shuffled in the general direction of the main entrance, his shoulders folded inwards. Soonyoung followed after him a moment later, his curiosity piqued. Whatever was going on had something to do with Mingyu, something that upset him. Maybe the fact that Wonwoo wasn’t there? He stilled for a moment, an image flashing across his mind. He forced it down and continued, gulping as he entered the main room, where Seungcheol had somehow moved a still-hysterical Mingyu. Soonyoung silently leaned against the wall, waiting for the story to develop.

-=+=-

Wonwoo realized there was a real possibility he could die in the back of this van. Especially when the door slammed and the engine started up, the sudden violent movement of the car throwing him back. He managed to press himself into the corner, somewhere he wouldn’t move around all too much or fall when the doors opened. A pen rolled across the floor, and he grabbed it, shoving it into his pocket quickly. A pen could impale someone if he tried hard enough, surely. 

An agonizingly long ride later, the van rolled to a stop, and Wonwoo immediately closed his eyes, relaxing his limbs and letting his lips part to feign unconsciousness. Chilly air tickled the side of his neck as the back door was thrown open, and someone grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the car. The hold released on his arm, and he dropped to the ground, almost letting out a startled yell, but somehow remaining completely limp. 

“Woah- don’t throw him around like that! Do you even know what they’ll do to us if he’s all scraped up?” He heard someone yell, and would have rolled his eyes.

“Dude, he’s already got a hole in his shoulder” someone else pointed out, and a muffled “fair point” met his ears as he was picked up again, this time not being thrown violently to the ground. He braved a small crack of his eyelids, bright overhead lights blazing, forcing him to close his eyes again. He didn’t know how he’d get out of this one. 

-=+=-

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, the faint thump of footsteps just on the other side of the door echoing in the bare room. Wonwoo shifted uncomfortably, the chain around his ankle making a loud scraping noise on the floor as he did so. He pursed his lips, staring at the metal and vaguely recalling ‘Saw’. He laughed to himself, and let his head thump against the wall behind his back. 

“No saws to cut my ankle off here” he said to nobody in particular, pulling his pen out of his pocket and fiddling with it. 

The doorknob turned, and he shoved the pen back into his pocket, looking up at who was entering with an inquisitive gaze. The man tossed a notepad at him, another pen clipped to the side.

“Consider it an opportunity to have some final words. Maybe your friend’ll see ‘em.” The man laughed, his lip curling up into a sneer. It was clear he didn’t expect any of Wonwoo’s friends to get far enough. Wonwoo narrowed his eyes, trying to determine how probable it was that he would eventually be rescued. He’d already spent close to 16 hours in this room, if the clock was any indication, with not much to go off of. No windows in the room, only the large steel door with a peephole on it that had been covered in black electrical tape. 

He reached out with the foot that wasn’t shackled and drug the notebook back towards himself so he could pick it up. Might as well pass the time. Get his thoughts down before he couldn’t anymore. He flipped to the first page, managing to hold the notebook still with his bad (fortunately non-dominant) hand, clicking the end of the pen he had been provided with and letting the tip hover over the first line. Who was he writing to? He gnawed on his lower lip, narrowing his eyes. The tip dug into the paper, and he began to write. Starting with a name.

-

_Seungcheol  
Hey, I hope you’re doing well, considering what you receiving this probably means. If anyone got hurt because of it, I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt any of you guys. I hope you’re able to take care of everyone still, and that not too much has changed. Let’s face it, I was never really the most important part of our self-made family. _

_I wanted to thank you, first of all. For taking all of us in. You really didn’t have to, but you gave us a home. Sure, it’s a pretty fucked up home, but it’s still good in my eyes. It’ll never not be good to me. Everything you’ve done, everything you’ve set your mind up to, up until this point, has never been for you. You’ve never acted selfishly, you’ve always seen our needs before your own. For that, I thank you. I’m sure everyone does too. Also, in regards to that statement, I want you to take a little time to rest. Reflect, reminisce, things of the sort. Just relax, it’ll be okay, I promise. Even though it might not seem like it, it’ll be okay. Do you trust me on that? I have some experience in the department, if I do say so. Taking some time for yourself once in a while won’t do any harm. So please, just make sure that you take care of yourself too. I miss you._

_With love, Wonwoo._

-

Seungcheol shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated yell. After Soonyoung had insisted the wait until it got light, they had immediately come to this spot. The exact spot Minseok had said it happened. Thankfully, they had brought along Junmyeon after Minseok called him late in the night. The had two left after they arrived to bring Jongdae home. Now, standing on the sidewalk beside a blood stain, he realized that there was nothing to off of. Not that he could see. He crouched down and pressed his fingers to the edge of the crimson concrete.

-=+=-

_Minghao  
You and I are alike, Hao. We both like books, we both found our salvation in someone else, we both like the smell just before a rainstorm. Hopefully, we both don’t have the same fate. You’re happy now, with Junhui by your side. I can tell. You should cherish that joy, keep it in your heart as long as you can. Not just for Junhui, but for everyone. All the connections you’ve made, the paths you’ve been down, the places you have been, or are going to go. Live so you can have a memory in each one. Also, force everyone else to do the same. Even though you might not think it, you’re incredibly important to all of us. I know for a fact that there were days it could have been the end, but you were always there to help. You’re like our saving grace. For once, I hope someone else can be yours._

_Junhui  
For as long as we’ve known each other, I think we’ve spoken the least. Yet, you’re one of the people I trust the most. Somehow, our silence was like a pact. We could both be the only ones in the room, and silently go about our own business, feeling comfortable in each other’s presence. I’d trust you with everything I’ve grown to love. _

_On the topic of things we love- take care of Mingyu for me. Not up front and in his face, but subtly. Make sure he eats, and sleeps. Also, that he doesn’t trip and fall over his own feet and end up with a bloody nose (though it may be inevitable). Take care of Minghao too, for the both of you. You deserve to be happy as well._

_With love, Wonwoo._

-

Minghao hugged Junhui’s waist, ducking his head behind the elder’s shoulder to keep out of the wind as best as he could. Of course, he had his own bike, but the fewer vehicles they took, the better. One pair of eyes looking out on the buildings flying by was better as well. Minghao could hardly tell what they were passing by at this point- Junhui seemed to know fairly well where he was going. They were both investigating a possible sight. The group had split up into pairs and individuals to scour the city for any signs of Jeon Wonwoo.

Junhui stopped his bike in front of the old restaurant, his eyes flickering to the dimly lit windows as Minghao disentangled his arms from his waist and got off. He followed shortly after, pulling his gun out of his belt and walking up to the door, raising his leg and slamming the heel into the wood. The old material gave way, and it swung open violently, bouncing off of a nearby wall and likely denting the surface. The pair stepped inside, back to back, weapons raised. Faint hushes and the flick of a light switch was all that could be heard, coming from upstairs. They both moved away from each other, Junhui cautiously climbing the stairs and touching the knob of the door at the top of the flight. Minghao stood a few feet behind him, his eyes trailed on the wooden rectangle. Junhui’s pushed it open suddenly, and stepped inside, his pistol pointed directly at a group of girls crowded in the corner. He quirked an eyebrow and held his hand up, Minghao stepping in behind him. The younger’s lips parted, and he looked between the 5 young women, tilting his head.

“Why are you in an old, closed-down restaurant?” He asked cautiously, and one of the girls stood up, half-stumbling over to Junhui. An empty bottle clattered out of her hand, and he tucked his gun under his belt, glancing over his shoulder at Minghao. The younger nodded and kept his gun out as Junhui turned back to the girl. She practically collapsed against him, and he caught under her arms to keep her upright.

“Wan’ to join?” She slurred, and Minghao cringed at the way she tried to drape herself all over Junhui. 

“I’ll have to pass” Junhui responded immediately, attempting to gently push her back towards her friends. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him down, pressing her lips firmly against his. Instantaneously, he shoved her off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and spitting onto the hardwood floor near the girl’s feet. Minghao almost growled, shifting towards Junhui subconsciously. How dare she put her hands all over his Junhui like that?

“C’mon, Hao, let’s go” Junhui grabbed Minghao’s wrist and walked down the stairs as quickly as he could, still not releasing his hold on Minghao’s slim arm. When they were outside, Junhui spat again, this time just onto the street. He turned around and hooked his fingers through Minghao’s belt loops in one fluid motion, pulling them together. Minghao’s hands found Junhui’s waist, and he stood up on his tiptoes slightly to press a kiss to his lips. Junhui deepened it, letting the younger lace his arms around his neck and pull him down a bit. He couldn’t taste alcohol anymore- only Minghao.

-=+=-

_Seungkwan_  
_Even though I may tease you all the time about being a drama queen, I think I might have gone crazy without you. Somehow, you bring beauty to the controlled chaos of our house. Insanity seems slightly less insane- either that, or you walking in makes me even more crazy. Regardless, I appreciate what you do, even if you don’t know that you do it. You’re like a mother to all of us. Whenever anyone is sick or hurt, you’re always taking care of them. Do me a favor, Seungkwan.  
Never change._

_Hansol  
I really think, at this point, that you’ve become my brother. Not just that, but a friend. We were both so young when we met, scared and running from ourselves. We were only 5 people back then. I guess you could say we were both some of the original few. Not that anyone else lacks any importance._

_You’ve been through a lot, Hansol. Almost too much. It doesn’t seem fair for a kid like you to have to go through all of this. You could have had a normal life, maybe a dog, but instead here you are. And I bet you don’t regret a second of it. You sick bastard. Treat everyone well, and make sure you keep up our counting game._

_With love, Wonwoo._

-

Hansol looked across the street, spotting a woman walking a dog, and added a mental tally to his list. He and Wonwoo played a game, ever since they were small and they needed a distraction. They’d count how many dogs they saw, and every time one of them asked the other, the game started over again. He closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, wishing Seungkwan had come along. Seungkwan was insanely intelligent, hyper-aware of his surroundings. But, as of right now, he didn’t feel like he could do well on high stakes missions, despite the adamant protesting from the rest of he gang. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out, pressing it to his ear.

“Hey, Hansol. We got the place.”

-=+=-

_Jihoon  
I’m not exactly sure why, but I’ve always looked up to you, even though you’re younger than I am. The way you handle yourself is admirable, I don’t think you’ve ever done the wrong thing. _

_I hope you can continue on normally, ignoring the fact that instead of 12, you’re 11 or maybe less (hopefully not). I also wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I couldn’t stick around long enough to see all of you grow up._

_With love, Wonwoo._

-

Jihoon slid his phone back into his jacket, having hung up on Hansol. Chan tapped his foot against the concrete impatiently, his hair a bit ruffled from the ride over. They were standing in a side alley, a block or two down from where they had very clearly seen a large van with blood smeared on one of the doors. To top it off, when Chan had managed to break the lock and get it open, they had found the bracelet Wonwoo always wore lying in the back. Just like him to leave something tell-tale behind. They had called everyone else, told them where they were, and now they had to wait.

-=+=-

_Chan  
I’ve watched you develop into the person you are today, and I can’t say I could be any prouder. You’ve become such a wonderful person, you’ve overcome so much. I’m so proud of you. Continue to do what you love, and one day it’ll all settle down. I believe that you can do great things. I hope the world treats you well._

_With love, Wonwoo._

-

Chan finally perked up when Seungcheol and Mingyu finally showed up, both looking eager. Jihoon explained the situation, and handed Mingyu the bracelet, who slid it into his pocket to keep it safe. The tall man was jittery, Chan could tell. He was practically trembling, looking around all the time, playing with his sleeve. He was nervous. The youngest reached out and pulled him into a quick hug, running between his shoulder blades.

-=+=-

_Seokmin  
The past few years, I’ve somehow grown used to how spontaneous you can be. That, inherently, was not a good thing, I believe. I always really needed someone who would jump at an opportunity with no further warning. Both you and Soonyoung are like that, I think that might have been why you two connected so much. Even if you’re so fucking awkward, somehow you made it work. Whatever you do, hold on to who you live, and remember how I always said that family is made along the way._

_Soonyoung  
You’ve evolved the most out of all of our members. I’ve watched you go from a timid boy who would flinch when someone else even took a step in his direction to a loud, over enthusiastic man who everyone adores. You have the uncanny ability to make everyone happier. I hope you can do that now, for the sake of everyone else._

_With love, Wonwoo._

-

Soonyoung slammed the butt of his rifle against the lock, which clattered to the ground, and threw the door open to an eerily quiet room just off the entrance. He moved quietly, slipping into the hallway with Seokmin on his heels. They had opted for the back entrance, while everyone else took the front. Essentially, everyone else was a diversion. The smaller pushed on the handle of one of the few rooms along the hallway, and poked his head inside to meet the gaze of a young-looking boy, handcuffed to a classic interrogation table. The boy’s eyes widened, and Soonyoung immediately lowered his weapon, blinking and pulling a pin he had used to push his hair back out, walking over and kneeling beside the boy’s seat, tenderly taking his wrist and adjusting the cuff so he could slide the bobby pin into it.

“Wh-who are you?” The boy rasped, and Soonyoung bit his tongue for a second until the handcuffs popped open, then grinned and looked up at the youthful face staring at him.

“My name’s Soonyoung. We have to get one other person, then we’re out, okay? You can come along if you want, but the entrance is to the left” he stood up and grabbed his gun again, shoving Seokmin out of the doorway so he could continue walking. He heard a small laugh from the man behind him, but ignored it.

-=+=-

_Jeonghan  
I’ve only known you for a short while (no I’m not counting two years ago) but you really seem to fit in with everyone, despite your obvious differences. You also have a natural motherly instinct, something we always need more of with how we act. Thank you, for taking care of people that never asked for help, even if they needed it._

_With love, Wonwoo._

-

Jeonghan pressed himself against the wall as he reloaded, panting. A sweaty strand of hair fell in his face, but he ignore it, stepping out from his brief cover and swiveling, trying to identify someone he didn’t recognize. The action around him died down, leaving only people knew standing nearby. Everyone seemed okay, for the most part. Junhui had blood running from a swiftly bruising nose, and Chan had bloodied his knuckles after he had to punch someone in the face a few (okay, maybe more than a few) times, but that looked like all that was wrong. The other side had suffered greater losses- judging from the bodies (a majority of them dead, some just unconscious or in the process of dying) scattered all around the main part of the gutted office building/warehouse they had found themselves in. He watched as Mingyu quickly made his way towards a door leading to the office part of things, where Seokmin and Soonyoung had gone to begin with. He sighed and followed reluctantly, throwing a look at Seungcheol that read ‘I got it’.

-=+=-

_Mingyu  
God, I don’t know what to say. I decided to write yours last, simply for the lack of motivation. For the lack of ability to say goodbye. For almost as long as I’ve known you, I’ve been hopelessly in love with you. With all of your quirks and flaws, with the way that you smile, and laugh. With everything about you. So, as I find myself sitting here, quite literally shackled, I’ve decided to let myself go. I let my mind run, slipping into memories I never thought I’d be able to recall. I find that the majority of them, the good ones at least, are about you. About the way we would stare at the stars, lying on our backs on the rooftop. How I tried to teach you the constellations, but you’d always make up new ones, and give them stories. _

_The stars always shined brighter when I had someone to share them with. I only ever shared them with you. As hard as it may seem, to accept the fact that this is probably the last you’ll ever hear from me, I would like to emphasize the fact that this is not a goodbye. I could never say goodbye to you._

_With love, Wonwoo._

-

Mingyu threw open the door, almost running into Soonyoung. The smaller shrieked and kicked Mingyu’s kneecap out of instinct, who just blinked and looked back at Seokmin. He noticed a frail, young looking man standing beside him.

“Who is that?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh, his name is Luhan. We found him in one of the rooms.” Seokmin replied, and Mingyu shrugged, looking the other direction towards the door towards the end of the hall, one that was still closed. He quickly walked over, his legs crossing the gap in only a few steps, and jiggled the doorknob. He scrunched up his nose, and Soonyoung lightly pushed him to the side, kneeling down and shoving something into the lock. Mingyu rapped his fingertips against his thigh, leaning over Soonyoung to look into the peephole, only to find that it was black on the other side. He stepped back as Soonyoung stood, and turned the handle himself, pushing the door open. 

-=+=-

Wonwoo groaned quietly to himself, not caring about the commotion he could barely hear outside the door. His head was spinning, and his throat was dry. He had tucked the finished letters into his pocket after folding and labeling them, and then promptly slumped down against the wall. He felt like he was going to be sick, but there was nothing in his stomach. He coughed, and his head snapped up when the doorknob rattled. He gasped and scooted as close as he could to the corner of the room, pulling slightly at the short chain wrapped around his ankle, fastened with a lock. The key was sitting on the table against the opposite wall, just out of his reach. He wiggled uncomfortably, barely managing to move his bad arm at all. The rattling stopped for a moment, and then the door swung open. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened slightly.

“Min.. gyu?” He rasped, his throat scratching at the sound. The tall man was immediately by his side, pulling him into a hug, and Wonwoo whimpered pathetically as Mingyu’s hand dug into his shoulder. The younger immediately pulled back, his gaze falling on the blood-soaked side of Wonwoo’s shirt. His jacket was lying on the floor a few feet away. Wonwoo barely registered a small clink as the chain rattled to the ground, until Mingyu’s arms were wrapped around him and he was being lifted off of the ground. The sudden change made him cringe, but he let his head rest against Mingyu’s chest, his eyes slipping closed.

-

Wonwoo awoke surrounded by warmth, and exhaled, opening his eyes and gazing upon a strangely familiar ceiling fan. He attempted to push himself up with his good arm, and was immediately gently pressed back down into the mattress. He let himself be propped up with a few pillows, and Mingyu leaned across his lap, picking up a glass of water and cautiously handing it to Wonwoo, who accepted graciously and took a few big gulps. The liquid provided some relief, although his pounding headache didn’t seem eager to subside. Almost on queue, Mingyu somehow procured some pain meds, which he also accepted.

“How are you feeling?” Mingyu asked quietly, and he pursed his lips.

“Surprisingly okay” he responded, his voice still a bit scratchy, although not nearly as much as it had been. 

“Good” Mingyu smiled, taking Wonwoo’s hand and running his thumb gently over the knuckles. Wonwoo looked over at his own shoulder, and furrowed his eyebrows at the bandage, it wasn’t even stained red.

“How long have I been out?” Wonwoo asked, looking up at his boyfriend with a concerned expression.

“I doubt you remember anything from the past 4 days, at least” Mingyu reached up and brushed a finger through Wonwoo’s hair, rearranging it on his forehead. Wonwoo thought back, to the room, the gunshot- fuck, the letters.

“Did you.. get my jacket?” He managed to ask, trying not to make the phrase sound weird. Mingyu pressed a kiss to the top of Wonwoo’s head.

“We read them” he responded simply, and Wonwoo groaned. “Needless to say, everyone is touched” he added on with a small smile, and the older had the sudden urge to slam his skull back against the headboard. He did, until Mingyu hesitantly rearranged himself so Wonwoo could lean back into his arms, and use his chest as a pillow. Wonwoo sighed contentedly, practically lying on top of Mingyu. The larger didn’t seem to mind at all, instead steadily tracing Wonwoo’s side with his fingertips. An innocent, reassuring action, almost as if to tell himself Wonwoo was still there.

“You never have to say goodbye” Mingyu spoke after a long while, his voice a bit hiccupy and laced with pain. His hand stilled against Wonwoo’s side, and the older pressed his back against Mingyu’s chest a bit harder.

“I don’t plan on it”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was an emotional chapter.  
> As always, please leave a comment with your general thoughts, or even requests or suggestions! Thank you so much for reading!!!


	6. Mindless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chan meets BLACKPINK and I half-ass an ending (I promise I’ll explain myself)

Junmyeon tipped his head back, exhaling and letting smoke curl into the night sky. He offered the burning cigarette to Minseok, who gladly accepted and placed it between his lips, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve free he did so, attempting in vain to clear the mist from his eyes. The smaller stared straight ahead, disregarding the glowing embers near his feet. Junmyeon shoved his lighter into his pocket, sighing. Tomorrow was.. going to be a bad day. It would be the first day they woke up as 8 instead of 9. So, the two opted to avoid falling asleep, hopefully avoiding the feeling altogether. 

“Hey” Minseok spoke, his voice wavering. This was the most Junmyeon had heard him say since he got home. “Can we… have a send off?” He added on, not averting his gaze from the brick building opposite the empty road.

“Of course, Seok”

“The river..” Minseok mumbled. “He loved the river” his voice cracked, and he chucked the cigarette butt in the middle of the pavement, the end still glowing. He scrubbed at his eyes, but tears still rolled down the smooth skin of his cheeks.

“I’ll wake everyone up” Junmyeon whispered, reaching out and brushing Minseok’s hair out of his face, the strands in utter disarray. The smaller nodded, and Junmyeon quickly set out to his task, leaving Minseok standing near the wall. 

-

Minseok peeled his shoes and socks off, rolling up the legs of his jeans and stepping down into the water. It was painfully cold, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he relished in the way he was able to feel the bite of the liquid against his ankles, steadily numbing his toes. A hand on his shoulder coaxed him into looking back, seeing Junmyeon holding something out to him. He reached out and took it, bringing it closer so he could investigate the light object. It looked to be a paper boat, but there was a small, battery-operated candle tucked into the back. He turned it on, watching the ‘flame’ flicker to life, and felt tears start to well up in his eyes. He covered his eyes with one hand for a moment, managing to collect himself a bit before walking out further into the water, until the fridges ripples reached halfway up his thigh. Then, he placed the boat on the water, watching the flickering light be carried away by the steady current. He exhaled forcefully, sniffling, and then made his way back to shore, accepting Jumyeon’s hand. He sat down on the rock next to his shoes, and shoved his socks into his pocket, pulling the knock-off vans into his lap and tying the laces to each other so they formed a center link. Standing, he cautiously made his way over to a woody bush leaning over the water, hanging his shoes over one of the branches. 

‘Maybe’ he thought, as he caught sight of the faux candle before it disappeared behind a rock. ‘Maybe I’ll be able to fall asleep tonight’

-=+=-

Since Wonwoo had arrived back home, everyone had settled back into a somewhat normal lifestyle. They neglected the need to hunt down the head of whoever the fuck had disrupted said normal lifestyle in the first place. For one, Wonwoo has specifically requested that they let it be. There was nothing they could do that would dig them out of the hold they had already stumbled into without going any further. As he had put it, one casualty was enough. Mingyu had instantly agreed, dragging most of them along with him. Despite how much Seungcheol wanted to track them all down, he had settled into a more peaceful decision as well, purely for the fact that he didn’t need to over complicate anything. Besides, retribution belonged to EXO this time. One thing you never did was deny a dangerous gang their retribution. 

“Cheolie~” Jeonghan cooed, practically skipping into their shared room with his laptop clutched to his chest. 

“Yeah?” The leader looked up from his notebook and closed it, leaning over to set it on the side table as Jeonghan flopped onto the bed. The younger three open the laptop and plopped it in Seungcheol’s lap.

“I finished” he grinned, and Seungcheol blinked, confused.

“Finished what, exactly?”

“The book I started a while ago. It’s about social constructs and bridging the lines of the supposed hierarchy in modern society” Jeonghan explained, and Seungcheol found himself smiling ever so slightly. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Jeonghan asked accusingly, and Seungcheol shrugged.

“Sometimes I forget you’re so fucking smart, Hannie. You went to college and you’re wasting it all here” he sighed, his eyes traveling over the first few lines on the screen. Jeonghan’s lips turned downward into a pout and he put his head in his hands.

“I like it here though. It’s more comfy than my apartment was”

“You’re just saying that because the walls are completely soundproof, like a normal house. Unlike the sad excuse for a wall in your old place” Seungcheol scoffed, scrolling down to page two, his eyes briefly traveling over to the page count that appeared as he scrolled.

“Holy shit, Hannie, 285 pages?”

Jeonghan smiled innocently and pushed the laptop closed from the back, earning a disgruntled whine from the older.

“I was reading” he hissed, and Jeonghan sat up, sliding his laptop onto the side table, on top of Seungcheol’s notebook. Then, he rolled off of the bed and grabbed Seungcheol’s hand, dragging him into the living room and plopping down on the couch. He pulled his phone out of his hoodie pocket and pat the cushion next to him. Begrudgingly, the leader sat down and allowed Jeonghan to cuddle up to his side, putting an arm around his shoulder and pulling him a bit closer.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Jeonghan asked, picking up the remote and turning the TV on. It didn’t seem like Seungcheol really had a choice at this point, but he didn’t really mind. 

“Sure. What movie?”

“Hm. Shawshank Redemption.” Jeonghan answered confidently, shifting so he could lay his head on Seungcheol’s shoulder. 

-=+=-

Junhui was about a minute away from chucking the fucking wrench out a window. Hours of taking this engine apart, searching every little part for the slightest of manufacturing errors or pieces of debris, and Seokmin had a pebble stuck in the gas tank. How did that even fucking happen? And how did it rattle around? Was he always running so close to empty that there was literally no gas left in the tank? He knotted his hand in his hair and let out a small yell, staring down at the disassembled motorcycle engine. His grey shirt was smudged with black, as were most of his clothes, and his hair was an unruly tangle. Not like he cared. 

“Jun?” A small voice asked, and he looked over his shoulder. Minghao was leaning against the door frame, sleep still plaguing his expression. Junhui put down what he was holding a grabbed the old rag tucked into his belt, wiping off his hands and arms as he walked over to the door. 

“Hao, what’s up? Did you sleep well?” He inquired as he approached, and Minghao shrugged.

“Kept waking up” He sighed, and Junhui frowned, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the crown of Minghao’s head. He frowned even more and felt the younger’s forehead with the back of his palm. Quickly, Minghao swatted his hand away. But not quickly enough.

“Hao, you’re burning up. It’s no wonder you couldn’t sleep” he sighed, and ruffled Minghao’s hair. The younger placed a playful kick on Junhui’s shin, who didn’t seem all that amused by Minghao’s attempts to distract him.

“C’mon, let’s go” Junhui commanded, picking Minghao up, who squawked and threw his arms around the older’s neck to keep himself from “falling” (like Junhui would ever let him fall). He carried Minghao up the stairs and awkwardly managed to get the door open, walking into the living room and gently laying him down on the couch. He found a fluffy blanket thrown on the cushion from god knows when and picked it up, pulling it over top of Minghao and sliding a pillow under his head despite the constant whining. 

“I’m fine, Jun!” He snapped, and the older just smiled, sitting down on the edge of the cushion and reaching over to brush Minghao’s hair out of his face. The smaller closed his eyes and hummed, pulling the blanket up under his chin.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little sick” he grumbled, and Junhui laughed softly.

“I’ll get some medicine, okay? Do you want anything to eat?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow and rubbing where he assumed the center of Minghao’s chest was, not being completely sure due to the blanket. 

“You know, I could really go for some Yan Du Xian soup…” Minghao mumbled, and Junhui stood up slowly.

“I’ll see what I can do, okay?” He leaned down and kissed Minghao’s forehead again, trying to remember all of the ingredients for the Chinese soup his mom had taught him how to make when he was 9. 

-

Several hours and quite a few favors later, Junhui was standing in the middle of the living room with a bowl of soup in his hands, smiling down at the sleeping Chinese boy on the couch. He set the bowl and spoon down on the coffee table and gently shook Minghao’s shoulder until his eyes opened and he yawned, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Junhui handed him the bowl, and Minghao’s eyes widened slightly.

“Holy shit, Junhui. You actually fucking did it this time. How’d you get all the ingredients? I’m pretty sure young bamboo shoots aren’t readily available in the middle of Seoul” he stared up at Junhui accusingly, and the older put his hands up.

“Hey, I have a few people here and there” he smirked, and Minghao mumbled something under his breath but quickly started eating. He groaned after he swallowed a few spoonfuls and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It tastes like a mom made it, there’s no way you’re actually this talented at cooking” Minghao pointed his spoon at Junhui, who had sat down at the end of the couch where Minghao’s feet had been. They were now, of course, on his lap. What kind of boyfriend would Minghao be if he didn’t stick his socks all over Junhui once in a while? A bad one, that’s what.

Jun turned on the television and flicked through the channels until Minghao dug his heel into Junhui’s thigh, prompting him to stop. It was a lacrosse game, between to American colleges Minghao could hardly recognize. One of them was red and white, and the other was navy blue. Judging by the score, the navy blue ones were winning.

“What I’d give to have a normal life sometimes” Junhui sighed, sinking lower into the couch and stealing a corner of Minghao’s blanket. 

“You wouldn’t give anything” 

“Yeah, I know”

-=+=-

Chan revved his motorcycle and sped up, silently coaxing Hansol into a race. They were the two youngest, so whenever they went anywhere alone, all hell tended to break loose. Hansol cut around a Corvette and almost swerved into oncoming traffic, luckily regaining control and continuing as if nothing had happened. His hiccup had allowed Chan to pull ahead, who drifted a corner and sped up even more, his speedometer climbing at a steady rate. 

After a few more minutes in the lead, Chan finally pulled into a parking lot on the right side of the street, waiting for Hansol to pull in beside him before swinging his leg over the bike and stretching. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually wore a helmet on his bike. 

“Why are we doing this again?” Chan asked Hansol, who shrugged and combed a hand through his effortlessly styled hair. 

“Jeonghan said Cheol had to do something, and Mingyu and Junhui are still taking care of Minghao and Wonwoo.”

“Cheol had to do something? Shocker” Chan drawled, jamming his hands into his cat pockets. Their leader was always working, no matter when, where, or why. There was always something to be done.

“Yeah. I wish he would take care of himself once in a while, you dig?”

Chan hummed in approval to the older boy’s statement, following a few steps behind him.

“Yeah, and while I might not be looking for anyone to mess around with, doesn’t mean you can’t have fun” Hansol pointed out, throwing a suggestive glance over his shoulder at Chan, who stuck his tongue out in response.

“I’m not looking for a fuck buddy, Hansol. I don’t want to sleep around like Jihoon does. I want a stable relationship like- well, like you and Seungkwan.” 

“I wasn’t saying you had to look for a fuck buddy. Make some friends, maybe. Flirt, even if it doesn’t mean anything. Be young, and dumb. Nothing bad ever came out of harmless flirting in a club that we have to go listen in on conversations in, okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I’ll try to ‘make friends’”

“Not like that you won’t” Hansol scoffed, and turned on his heel. He reached over and furiously attempted to fix Chan’s wind-ruffled hair, making it look less like an empire fringe and more like a slicked-back businessman. Or even a mob boss. Oh, the irony. 

“Now that you don’t look a scarecrow-“ Hansol started, and Chan cut him off with a swift elbow to the gut and continued walking, well aware that he had absolutely no idea where he was going. Hey, fake it till you make it. His walk slowed to a stop as he neared somewhere he very clearly had to make some sort of decision, and he decided to wait for Hansol to recover from his injury (god, was he always this dramatic? Or did Seungkwan rub off on him?). 

“Ooh, he looks like a heartbreaker” he heard from a few feet away, and blinked rapidly, looking in the direction of the voice. A group of four girls- all dressed like they were going clubbing (he reminded himself that they most likely were), were looking directly at him, giggling amongst themselves. He smirked and leaned against the back of a bench on the sidewalk, looking in the direction he had come from for any sign of Hansol. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and read a text from the older.

_[Hansol_  
20:17]  
Already here. Have fun finding it 

He narrowed his eyes at the screen and scrunched up his nose, sliding the device back into his pocket. All he knew was the name of the club and the parking lot they had parked in. Even then, the parking lot could be a mile away from the club. He twisted the ring on his finger. He only ever wore it once in a blue moon- it was their identification, after all, no need to saunter around waving it like “I’m in a gang I do illegal things on a daily basis! Whoo!”- but he was wearing it now just for the hell of wearing it. Both he and Hansol had agreed to.

“You look a little lost”

He looked up at one of the girls from before, who was now standing directly in front of him with a hand on her hip.

“Yeah, actually I am” he smiled, attempting to take advantage of the situation. “I need to go meet a friend at a club called Green Dragon, have you ever heard of it?”

“Really?! We were just headed in that direction, if you want to tag along” she replied all-too quickly, and Chan bit back a laugh. Despite her demeanour, she didn’t seem that good at flirting. 

“Sure, I’ll tag along. It’d be nice to have some company anyways” He let a soft smile slip, and she returned it, walking back towards her friends. He pushed back a stray piece of hair and followed, picking up a few phrases before they hushed down.

“His smile is so cute!” The one that had spoken to him whispered furiously. He bowed his head when he was standing a few feet from them.

“Hello~ my name is Jisung. Thank you for letting me tag along” he greeted.

“No problem, Sungie, just follow along and don’t cause too much trouble” a different one, with a bit more of a confident stance, teased. He flushed at the nickname, trying not to let his lie show on his face. 

“Ah, cute” she sighed, and twisted his ring on his finger again, suddenly hoping he wouldn’t have to use the switchblade in his pocket. It’d be a shame to frighten them. 

-

By the time the small group had made it halfway to the club, they had become somewhat acquainted. He learned all of their names, a little bit about them, and in exchange he tried to let them know a little bit about him. It was tough when, on all records that the government possessed, he shouldn’t exist. A while back, Jihoon had gone through hell to assure that he was as good as dead to the public. Nobody that hadn’t known him personally wouldn’t get to know him anytime soon. He was in charge of his own identity and who he gave it to, not that they could track it back to anything. His phone number traced back to one that was shut down, his name brought up nothing, no driver's license under his real name, no ID, no school records, no credit card, no birth or death certificate. It was the same for all of them, except Jeonghan. Even then, Jihoon was likely working on that as well.

One of the girls, Jennie, dropped back a few steps to walk next to him. He pulled his jacket off and slung it over his forearm, not saying anything. She didn’t either, but it wasn’t awkward. The light chatter of the other three made that possible. 

“So, Jisung, huh?” She asked, smiling down at her feet. Chan scoffed and glanced across the street to their right. His steps were larger, and he also wasn’t wearing heels, so he had to walk slowly to be considerate.

“Are you gonna tell me your real name?” She added, and he shrugged. He didn’t question how he knew. Some time ago, he learned that not asking questions was better in the long run.

“Chan. Lee Chan.” He answered after a few moments of silence. He saw no harm in it.

“Alright, mysterious Chan. I’m choosing to believe you on that one. I won’t tell”

“Doesn’t matter if you did anyways, probably won’t see you guys ever again after this. I tend to be a bit more of a… “ murderer? Thief? Criminal? “... recluse”

“Now that’d be a shame, to waste a whole night walking a cute boy to a club and leaving without his phone number” she poked his side jokingly, and he turned his head away so she couldn’t see the red spreading across his cheeks.

“Now, is this friend of yours cute too?” She questioned, her voice slightly louder. The three ahead turned their attention to Jennie. 

“Yeah, do we get a chance?” They laughed, and Chan shook his head.

“He’s in a relationship, sorry”

A small chorus of ‘aw’s and ‘darn’s met his ears. If Hansol ever heard about this, he’d never outlive it. 

“What’s his name?” Lisa asked from ahead, and he answered without hesitation.

“Vernon. He looks better than his name sounds.” Chan reassured them, the girls apparently not hearing his previous comment about his relationship status. Seungkwan wouldn’t be happy when he leeched the younger for details (to make sure Hansol wasn’t cheating, he claimed). His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out, looking down at the name. He answered it and pressed the device to his ear. Jennie politely walked up to rejoin the group, giving him a bit of privacy.

“Chan, how’s it going?” Mingyu’s familiar voice asked, and he sighed.

“You don’t need to make sure I’m not dying in a back alley, Gyu, I can take care of myself. I’m still walking there because Hansol decided to be a bitch and ditched me.” He answered quietly enough that he knew the girls wouldn’t be able to hear what he was saying, let alone make any sense out of it. 

Mingyu laughed. 

“I’m still here with Wonwoo, he fell asleep on my arm and I can’t really move, so… yeah”

“Sounds absolutely delightful. How’s Hao doing?”

“Aish, he went downhill. Can hardly talk, running a fever of 103.2. I’m pretty sure Junhui is balding from the stress. Speaking of, pick up some hella strong medicine from the corner store or something.” Mingyu filled him in, and his stomach dropped a bit. Hopefully it was just Minghao getting a bit sick. He almost never got sick, but when he did it hit him hard. 

“Yeah, Alright. We should be home at some point or another.”

“Smartass”

“Bitch”

Chan triumphantly hung up the phone, glad to have been teased by Mingyu. That meant he was coming back a bit. Ever since they got back, Mingyu was only ever himself when he could see Wonwoo. Chan supposed it was his instinct to make sure that Wonwoo was okay. He continued on, still a few steps behind the four girls. 

“Here we are!” Jisoo announced, indicating the line. Chan pursed his lips and gestured to the group to stay there, and stepped to the side, walking up to the usher. He smirked and made sure to flash the man his ring. This club belonged to two allies of theirs, Taemin and Minho. He had no doubt the usher would know their symbol. He nodded and Chan gestured to the four girls. They giggled and walked up with him, walking into the club and leaving him standing beside the usher.

“Are either of them here?” Chan asked, quirking an eyebrow. He read the name tag pinned to his chest. Key. He recognized the name- the guy must have been with the other two. 

“They aren’t, but Onew is, if you’re here on official business.”

“Onew.. you mean Jinki?”

“Yeah”

“Ah. I’m not here on official business, just hearing the word around town, you know? Hansol probably came by a bit ago, I’m meeting him here”

Key nodded and turned away from Chan when someone yelled something, and the younger walked into the club, the music he had heard faintly from the outside getting louder and more intense. He instantly spotted Hansol chatting with a familiar face- Jinki, and made his way over, kicking the back of Hansol’s shin. The man yelped in surprise and turned around, his hand flying to his belt where he likely had some sort of weapon. He relaxed when he saw Chan.

“Took you long enough Channie” He hissed, and Chan narrowed his eyes. 

“Shut up”

-=+=-

_Mindless_  
By: Yoon Jeonghan  
Chapter 1: Division (Intro)  
Throughout time, humans have been naturally divided. By skin tone, social status, wealth, even clothing choices. It’s almost instinct now, to remain within your designated group and never stray too far from the status quo. In my own personal experiences, I have found that some of the best people are the exact opposite of what they’re built up to be. People have the cognitive ability to change and adapt to their own ideals and needs. Therefore, if someone genuinely wishes to be different, they can be. 

-

This wasn’t supposed to be a love story. It was supposed to be one of pain, and loss. But, it was also supposed to be one of bravery and accomplishment. Instead of developing as members of a team, they found their hearts longed for something more. Something stronger, more permanent. And while they did become a strong team, they also became each other’s mental and physical anchors. They kept each other rooted in reality. 

While it wasn’t supposed to be one…

This is a love story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end.   
> I’m sorry it had to end like this- so rushed and not at all as dazzling as you probably expected. If you read the comments on the last chapter, you’ll know I recently injured my wrist (I play both hockey and lacrosse) so writing has been very hard for me. Because of the pause, I lost my inspiration for this story pretty quickly. I do have ideas for a new story though, so I’ll try and get that up as soon as I can. Thank you guys for sticking with this shitshow


	7. Dark Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new gang emerges from the shadows and tests the group. How will they react? Will their first instinct be to fight back, or will they try to make peace, and possibly new friends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHA YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE??? I’ll explain at the end I swear

Minghao’s head was on fire- he could hardly think straight. 

“Fuckin’ hate fevers” he mumbled angrily, fisting the blanket that was draped over his lower half. It had been two days, and his fever still hadn’t broken. The most movement he had done was to go to the bathroom. To say the least, he felt like shit. Making matters even worse, all the other members were blatantly ignoring him. There was clearly something going on- something that had even Wonwoo riled up, and nobody would tell him a damn thing. Junhui has told him it was because he was sick, and stress would only make him feel worse, but he still wanted to know. Even if it made him feel like a melting pile of hopes and dreams, he wanted to know. He groaned as another wave of pain thundered in his head, and squeezed his eyes closed. One way or another, he was bound to find out what was going on. He just preferred that it would be sooner rather than later. 

“Hao, do you need anything?” he heard a small voice from the doorway- one that definitely didn’t belong to Junhui- and opened his eyes to look at who it was. Jeonghan was staring at him with a motherly look in his eyes, nothing but concern filling his expression. He shook his head.

“I’m fine” He croaked, but Jeonghan narrowed his eyes and walked into the room, heading straight for the bathroom that joined their room and Soonyoung and Seokmin’s room. He emerged a few moments later with a washcloth, and placed the moist towel on the Chinese boy’s forehead, the cool cloth bringing almost immediate relief. He exhaled, a contented hum escaping his lips. 

“So, Hao…” the elder trailed off, and Minghao fixed his gaze on Jeonghan.

“What?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Seungcheol wants to talk to you” he blurted out, and quickly left the room. Minghao blinked, mildly disoriented, and pushed himself up on his elbows. Why did Jeonghan sound so scared about it? 

The door opened again, and Seungcheol walked in this time, completely expressionless. He sat down on the foot of the bed with a huff, and then looked over his shoulder at the confused male.

“Look, I know you’re restless. Junhui won’t shut the fuck up about it- but I need you to bear with me. We’re trying to sort out boundaries with the leader of some new, up-and-coming gang just south of us. They don’t seem very… welcoming, despite the fact that this isn’t even their territory.”

Minghao quirked an eyebrow at how… distressed the leader sounded.

“And this is worrying because…?” He asked, rolling his wrist for added effect.

“As of the end of our “meeting”, there’s a bounty on the back of every single one of us. A large one. Which means that..” he trailed off, gesturing to Minghao for his opinion.

“Take ‘em down” he replied, as if the answer was completely obvious.

“That’s what we’re working on” he sighed, patting the younger’s knee. “But they’re tougher than we expected”

“Wait- what? Did anyone get hurt?” Minghao suddenly sat up, his tone a bit more frantic.

“No, not yet”

The younger nodded and exhaled, his shoulders slumping a bit. He looked relieved.

“Do they have a name? How many of them are there?”

“Woah, there, calm down.” Seungcheol laughed. “There are 7 of them, I believe. As for their name… I think it’s Monsta X”

-=+=-

Soonyoung exhaled and adjusted his grip on the sniper rifle in his hands. He incresed the zoom on the night vision scope and swung it right slightly, edging closer to the drop off so he could angle the barrel downwards. 

“Right there…” He mumbled, the pinpoint in the scope trailed on the back of the head of his designated target. Someone from the new gang named Minhyuk. He picked his head up to gauge how many people there were surrounding said target. Not too many. A small smile spread across his face, and he rolled his shoulders back, flicking his head to get his hair out of his face. He looked back through the scope and flicked the safety off, watching as Minhyuk turned around. He shifted the rifle ever so slightly and pulled the trigger, immediately collecting his gear and making his way out of the vicinity as soon as possible.

1 down, 6 to go. Hopefully. He hadn’t stayed back long enough to see if he had actually made contact with the target, but he supposed be would find out soon enough. He scrambled down to where his bike was parked and pulled himself onto it, turning on the vehicle and immediately pulling onto the road and driving away from the area. The wind blew his hair all over, but he enjoyed the sensation of the cold air passing over his exposed skin, so he sped up a little bit, weaving through the roads with practiced accuracy. Miles passed, and he found himself pulling into the garage of his home a bit quicker than he wanted to. He guessed that he had zoned out on the ride over here. Oh well. He dismounted the bike after putting down the kickstand and stretched his arms, pulling the rifle off of his back and setting it on the table.

“Soonyoung!” A familiar voice called, and he was suddenly enveloped in a rather intense hug. He yelped, merely out of surprise, and then settled into the hug. The culprit released him, and he was able to turn around to face his assailant.

“Seokmin, why are you getting so excited?” He taunted, squishing his boyfriend’s cheeks.

“I mean, you were on a dangerous mission” The younger protested, and Soonyoung cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips.

“Shush, it wasn’t that dangerous.” He replied, removing his finger. Seokmin immediately shook his head.

“Any threat- even the threat of getting a papercut- is too dangerous for my Soon.” He stated firmly, his hands sneaking around the smaller’s waist to pull him closer. Soonyoung flushed slightly and placed his hands on Seokmin’s chest, half to have more contact, and half to keep just a bit of room between them. 

“Well then I guess I’m always on a dangerous mission, aren’t I?” Soonyoung pointed out, and Seokmin nodded in response.

“Which is why I must always protect you from the horrors of the outside world” Seokmin snorted and giggled at his own (bad) sense of humor. The elder rolled his eyes and shoved Seokmin away with a groan, shooting him a mock-glare. 

“Why did I agree to go out with you?” He hissed, walking over to the cabinets propped against the wall with the rifle back in his hand. He entered the code into one of the safes- the one he shared with Seokmin, and propped the gun up inside of it. 

“Because you love me” He heard from behind him, and he held up his middle finger over his shoulder, which earned a sharp laugh. He closed the safe and walked back over, grabbing Seokmin’s hand and lacing their fingers.

“Let’s go inside?” He asked, giving his lover’s hand a squeeze.

“Yeah. Be careful though, Minghao’s feeling back up to 100%, so Junhui decided to ‘throw a party’ which is secretly an excuse for ‘get drunk as hell’”

“Fuck yeah, sounds like my kind of night” Soonyoung grinned, taking off towards the doors and dragging Seokmin behind him. He wasted no time, walking up the stairs and enthusiastically throwing open the front door. Everyone froze as he entered, and a grin spread across Seungcheol’s face.

“He returns!” Everyone cheered, then the leader quieted them again. “So, Soon, what’s the news?” He asked, and Soonyoung released Seokmin’s hand, the other wandering further into the house.

“Nothing is confirmed, I was out of there before I could see. Shot was fired though. Either there are now 6 members of Monsta X, or they got one hell of a warning” He informed, and watched the smile on the leader’s face grow wider.

“Even if that fucker isn’t dead, that’s progress!” He practically shouted, very clearly intoxicated. He was backed up by a chorus of cheers, each with varying levels of enthusiasm. 

“Now, get a fucking beer and sit your ass down, we’re having a good time tonight” Mingyu commanded from his space on the floor, leaning back against Wonwoo’s legs. Soonyoung happily complied, plopping down on the floor facing the rest of the group. 

-

Mingyu looked up at Wonwoo, smiling at the elder and reaching up to tap his face and get his attention. 

“What?” Wonwoo looked down at Mingyu, his eyebrows raised.

“Let’s go” he grunted as he stood up, walking out of the room. Wonwoo hesitantly followed, curious as to what his devious boyfriend was planning. Mingyu walked into Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s room, earning a curious noise from Wonwoo. He ignored it and opened up the utility closet, hoisting himself up on the ladder and flipping open the trapdoor, emerging on the roof and extending a hand to help Wonwoo up. The smaller accepted it and was pulled up by Mingyu, incidentally into his chest. Mingyu left the trapdoor open so they weren’t locked on the roof and led Wonwoo towards the edge, sitting down with his feet handing over the side. Wonwoo did the same, tucking himself under the larger’s arm and lying his head on Mingyu’s shoulder. 

“Look at the stars” Mingyu breathed out, extending his free arm to gesture at the sky. Wonwoo hummed contentedly and brushed his hair out of his face.

“Really pretty” he affirmed, reaching over and running his fingers over the fabric of Mingyu’s shirt. It was soft- and he made a mental note to steal it later. 

A finger touched the underside of his chin, and he let his head be lifted to meet Mingyu’s eyes.

“Not as pretty as you” the younger cooed, and Wonwoo felt himself flush. He furrowed his eyebrows and reached up, linking his arms around Mingyu’s neck and pulling him down. Mingyu’s hands met his waist, and he turned to face the younger. 

“Yah, I’ll get embarrassed-“

He was cut off by a soft kiss, and his eyes closed instinctively. His lips parted, and Mingyu’s hands slid a bit farther up his back. He pressed Mingyu back a little bit and seated himself on the larger’s lap, not breaking the contact between them. After a few moments he pulled back, cupping Mingyu’s face with his hands and planting a kiss on the tip of his nose. 

“You’re so skinny, I need to feed you more” Mingyu smiled, and Wonwoo rolled his eyes, lying his head down on Mingyu’s shoulder.

The younger chuckled and massaged Wonwoo’s shoulders, earning a pleased hum. 

“Yeah, okay, I’ll eat more food” He joked, running his hands through Mingyu’s hair.

“Good. C’mon now, let’s go back inside” he suggested, and slid an arm under Wonwoo’s thighs so he could stand up and shift the smaller so he could comfortably carry him back towards the trapdoor that led into the house. 

“You take such good care of me” Wonwoo exhaled, his hand in a loose fist near Mingyu’s heart.

“You’ve been through enough. You deserve it.”

-=+=-

Hoseok slammed his fist into the table, effectively quieting the 6 other men surrounding him.

“Don’t you see? They’re backing us into a corner!” He growled, the glint in his eyes somehow making him look more intimidating. Like a shark about to attack.

“Taking a shot at Minhyuk, cutting off our main supplier- it’s all intentional, they’re trying to get us to back down!” He snapped, feeding how on edge they all were. He only relaxed when he felt a soft touch between his shoulder blades, and even then only slightly. 

“Hoseok, calm down” Hyungwon sighed, reaching up and pushing the other’s raven hair out of his face. His own soft pink locks were in complete disarray, and there was dirt smudged across his chin, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. 

“He’s right, though. I’m just not sure if we should back down or not. This is their territory, after all, and they don’t seem afraid to tangle with us” Hyunwoo inputted, finally speaking up after a long silence. The gang’s leader leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, making small gestures with his hands as he spoke.

“Back down? Are you crazy?” Changkyun asked suddenly, his deep voice cutting through the tension like a sharpened knife. “I say we fight back. There are 12 of them, right? Who’s to say they won’t notice someone missing for a little while?”

-=+=-

“Hey, Jeonghan? Have you seen Chan?” Seungkwan poked his head into the room, and furrowed his eyebrows when the elder shook his head.

“Why, hasn’t he come back yet?” Jeonghan sat up a little straighter, his shoulders tending suddenly. It was Seungkwan’s turn to shake his head, and almost instantly Jeonghan had his phone in hand and was dialing a phone number.

“Yes, Jihoon? Track Chan’s phone. Right now.” He hung up without a proper response, and stood up from his seat. They both knew Jihoon was literally sitting in his room not halfway across the house, but a phone call worked just as well, apparently. Jeonghan strode through the hall, throwing open Jihoon’s door and crouching down next to the smaller man, who was tapping away at his keyboard.

“His phone is in that old factory off west 17th street” Jihoon zoomed in on the location and furrowed his eyebrows.

“He said he was on patrols but that’s outside of our territory” Seungkwan snatched Jihoon’s computer, much to the smaller man’s dismay, and ran off to show the rest of the group. 

“What do you think happened to him?” Jeonghan asked, looking at the door, which Seungkwan has left slightly ajar.

“I’m… not sure, really. That boundary line… isn’t it touching the new gang’s supposed territory?” Jihoon responded, standing up and grabbing his jacket off of a chair on his side of the room. He glanced over his shoulder at the bed on the opposite side, the covers mused like Chan always left them.

“Shit- what if they know that Soonyoung took the shot? Do you think they’re trying to get at us?” Jeonghan followed Jihoon out of the room and towards the living room, where he could hold hear some light chatter.

“That’s what I was worrying about. For now, we need to investigate. And keep Soonyoung safe and hidden at all costs.”

-=+=-

Chan groaned, his eyes flickering open to take in the dim lights filtering in from partially broken windows.

“Hey, he’s awake” he heard from somewhere in the background, but the unfamiliar voice didn’t exactly register.

“Sheesh, he’s a fighter. Should’ve been knocked out for at least another few hours.” 

He picked his head up and exhaled, squinting and looking around.

“Hyunwoo- you drugged him?!” The noise was shrill, sharp, and Chan cringed and shrunk back in the chair he was seated in. Something pulled at his wrist, and he shifted, realizing that there was a cord bound around his wrists, holding them behind the chair.

“Well yeah, Kihyun, what else was I supposed to do?”

Chan’s vision finally focused, and bright red hair came into view in front of him. He furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side, his thoughts still muddled and unclear. 

“What’s… what’s going on?” He croaked, and yelped at a hand smacking the upside of his head.

“Hyunwoo- what the fuck?” Someone hissed, and he looked back up. A small, red-haired man smacked a taller, more muscular man’s shoulder and then crouched down beside Chan.

“He’s a fucking idiot. Can I ask your name? How old are you?” He sounded soft, motherly even. Similar to what he heard from Jeonghan on a nearly daily basis. 

“Chan. I… uh… I’m 22” he mumbled, his head stinging from the smack a few moments earlier. Without another response, the newcomer stood again, and Chan’s eyes instinctively followed him. He smacked the buff guy from before straight across the face, and Chan’s breath caught in his throat at the exchange.

“Hyunwoo! What the ACTUAL fuck is wrong with you? This kid is barely an adult- you drugged him!” 

The man that Chan took to be Hyunwoo seemed startled at the sudden encounter, but he quickly shook it off and took a few steps back.

“Kihyun, baby, calm down”

Chan blinked at the pet name, his lips parting. He remained silent and observed.

Kihyun sighed. “I- sorry, it’s just like Changkyun though. You know how I am…”

Hyunwoo stepped closer and pushed Kihyun’s hair out of his face.

“It’s fine, Kihyunie. I know you’re a mom” Hyunwoo laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of Kihyun’s head, walking out of the room and leaving Chan with the red-haired man, Kihyun. After a few moments of silence, Kihyun crouched down in front of him again.

“I’m… sorry about this, Chan. Wasn’t my idea. We can’t let someone firing at one of our own slide though.”

Chan nodded.

“I understand that. I’m… scared out of my mind” he laughed, in mild disbelief of his own situation. “but I… I guess I understand. We would do the same.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I’m not trying to torture you or anything, we’re.. well, using you, as horrible as that may sound, to draw your gang out. We need to confront them, not necessarily violently. My end goal is to close this situation with no bloodshed on either side.” Kihyun placed a hand on Chan’s knee, his grip too tight to be comfortable but not tight enough to be painful in any way. Chan shook his head, staring at Kihyun’s neck so he didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

“If you wanted peace, this wasn’t the best idea” he whispered, grateful that his hair was masking his face quite a bit. 

The door burst open, and Kihyun was quickly on his feet and dusting off his pants. Chan had shied away from the noise, and remained in his guarded position (as guarded as he could get when he was tied to a chair and still feeling the after-effects of some drug coursing through his veins). 

“Is this the bitch that shot at my Minhyukie?!”

Wow. This new person was… loud. Certainly had a presence. Chan lifted his head and made eye contact, unintentionally, with the newcomer. Kihyun physically held the other back.

“Jooheon- Jooheon! Calm down!” Kihyun shoved him, Jooheon, into the door he had so forcefully opened only moments ago. “No. Okay? You need to get your damn temper under control or you’ll get us all killed! If you don’t recall, you were the one that got us into this situation in the first place!” Kihyun snapped. At this, the other male seemed to visibly relax, albeit reluctantly. Kihyun seemed a bit more… desperate now. Emotional, even, with his tone and word choice.

“Please, Jooheon” he started, his voice breaking ever so slightly in the middle of his companion’s name. “Please don’t make this any worse. I’m scared. For you and Minhyuk, for Hyunwoo. For Changkyun. Hell, even Hyungwon and Hoseok. I’m terrified that something will happen. I can’t lose any of you! Not after what happened…” Kihyun trailed off, and something went unspoken between the two. Chan looked away, shuddering and desperately wishing he could be wrapped in his blankets or throwing skittles at Jihoon to get his attention. Instead, he was stuck in the middle of god knows where, listening to drama he didn’t necessarily want to dear. (Don’t get him wrong, he loved some hot tea, but not in the given circumstances). 

“Now let me talk to Chan-“ Kihyun started, but was swiftly interrupted by Jooheon.

“Chan? A first name basis? Weren’t we planning on killing him?”

“What- no! I told you, we’re trying to draw them out and ultimately make peace. They almost killed Minhyuk, we kidnapped one of them. An eye for an eye.”

Chan stored this knowledge in the back of his mind- so Soonyoung’s bullet hadn’t met its target. The question was, how did they know who took the shot? Chan reached two conclusions- one, they were scarily fast to jump to their own conclusions, or there was a mole somewhere within the workings of the kingdom that Seungcheol had built from the ground up. Either was a scarily real possibility. The door clicked shut, signifying the isolation of the both of them once more. Kihyun drug a chair of his own over from the side of the room and plopped down, wiping a thin layer of sweat from his skin. 

“Kihyunie!” A muffled call came from outside of the room, and Kihyun groaned and stood up, kicking the leg of the chair he had just drug over.

“Never get a fucking break” he muttered angrily under his breath, and then turned to Chan.

“Sorry about this. I’ll be back momentarily. For now, just sit still and look pretty.”

Kihyun left the room, leaving Chan to his own devices.

The youngest observed the room he was in. Small, dilapidated, definitely used to be some sort of control room. Sockets covered the walls, although half of them were merely holes where sockets presumably used to be. Said sockets also presumably used to be attached to multiple machines and computers. Now, the room was rather barren, with 7 chairs lining the walls and a table pushed into the corner. The chair he was seated in seemed to have been bolted hastily to the concrete ground. Whoever had bolted it down really needed a lesson on how to properly secure furniture. At this point in time he was too exhausted to try and find a way to escape his own dreadful situation, so he decided to hold out. 

Who knew, maybe Kihyun actually had no foul intentions. Maybe he actually wanted to make friends.

After years around gangsters, however, Chan’s hopes were slim. There was always a dark side to the moon, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back to this story!!! (Obviously). I couldn’t bear to just leave it be, and when I came up with the idea of other idols being the “enemy” I jumped right back on it! I apologize for such a long pause, but I’ll hopefully be back to regularly writing. We’ll see though, because season is starting soon so I might be swamped. I’ll try I swear. Thanks so much for reading!!! As always, any ideas or suggestions leave in the comments. Any and all feedback is always appreciated!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and suggestions or requests are always appreciated! Thank you so much for reading!


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